


It Is You

by PrinceofDarkness15



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben has been in love with Rey since he was 17, Blood and Gore, Childhood Friends, Consensual Sex, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, F/M, Falling In Love, Murder, Old Friends, Orphanged ben solo, Protective Kylo Ren, Sex, Sexual Tension, Strangers to Lovers, Undercover Ben Solo, Unresolved Sexual Tension, hux is not a nice guy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceofDarkness15/pseuds/PrinceofDarkness15
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 15
Kudos: 43
Collections: Unfinished Gems 15





	1. Chapter 1

He needed Rey liked he needed light and air. No more. The tall, emaciated boy dressed in rags rose from his father's lifeless body sprawled bonelessly on the icy, cold concrete floor of the shelter. His father had been dying for a long time---most of his life, in fact. There had always been something in him that just didn't want to live. The boy couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen his father clean and sober.

He had no mother. All his life, it had just been the two of them, father and son, drifting from shelter to shelter, staying until they were kicked out. The boy stood for a moment, looking down at this only blood relation in this world, dead in a pool of his own vomit and shit. Nobody had noticed his father's dead boy yet.

Nobody ever noticed them or even looked their way if they could help it. Even the other host, hopeless souls in the shelter recognized someone worse off than they were and shunned them.

The boy looked around at the averted faces, eyes cast to the floor. Nobody cared that the drunk wasn't getting up again. Nobody cared what happened to his only son. There was nothing left here for the boy. Nothing. He had to get to Rey. He had to move fast before they discovered that his father was dead. If they found the body here, the police and social workers and the administrators would certainly come for him. He was eighteen, but he couldn't prove it.

And he knew enough about the way things worked to know that he'd become a ward of the state. He'd be locked up in some prisonlike orphanage.

No. No way. He'd rather die. The boy moved toward the stairs that would take him up out of the shelter into the gelid, sleety afternoon. An old man looked up as he passed by, cloudy eyes flickering with recognition. Maz. Ancient, toothless Maz. She wasn't lost in alcohol like his father. She was lost in the smoky depths of her own mind.

"Ben, chocolate, chocolate?" she cackled and smacked her wrinkled, rubbery lips.

He'd once shared a chocolate bar Rey had brought him, and Maz had looked to him for sweets ever since. Here he was known as Ben. In the last shelter---Portland, was it?--his father had called him Dick. Naming him after the manager of the shelter always bough them some time. Not enough. Eventually, the shelters got so sick of his father's drunken rages and found a way to kick them both out.

Maz's hands, with their long, black ragged nails, grasped at him. Ben stopped and held her hand for a moment. "No chocolate, Maz," he said gently.

Like a child, her eyes began to fill with tears. Ben stooped to give her grimy wrinkled cheek a kiss, then rushed up the stairs and out into the open air. No hesitation as he turned onto Morrison Street. He knew exactly where he was going. To Jakku Manor. To Rey.

To the one person on the face of the earth who cared about him. To the only person who treated him as a human being and not some half-wild animal who smelled of dirty clothes and rotting food. Ben hadn't eaten in two days, and he had only a too-short cotton jacket to keep the cold away.

His big, bony wrists stuck out of the jacket's sleeves, and he had to tuck his hands into his armpits to keep them warm.

No matter. He'd been cold and hungry before. The only warm he wanted right now was Rey's smile. Like the arrow of a compass to a lodestar, he leaned into the wind to walk the mile and a half to Jakku Manor. No one looked his way as he trudged by. 

He was invisble, a lone, tall figure dressed in rags. It didn't bother him. He'd always been invisible. Being invisible had helped him survive. The weather worsened. The wind blew icy needles of sleet directly into his eyes until he had to close them into slits. Didn't matter. He had an excellent sense of direction and could make his way to Jakku Manor blindfolded.

Head down, arms wrapped around himself to conserve what little warmth he'd been able to absorb at the shelter, Ben slowly left behind the dark, sullen buildings of the part of the city that housed the shelter.

Soon the roads opened up into tree-lined avenues. Ancient brick buildings gave way to graceful, modern buildings of glass and steel.

No cars passed---the weather was too severe for that. There was nobody on the streets. Under his feet, the icy buildup crackled. He was almost there. The houses were big here, in his wealthy part of town. Large, well-built with sloping green lawns that were now covered in ice and snow.

He usually made his way through the back streets, invisible as always. Someone like him in his place of rich and powerful people would be immediately stopped by the police, so he always took the back streets on a normal day. But today the streets were deserted, and he walked openly on the broad sidewalks.

It usually took him half an hour to walk to Jakku Manor but today the ice-slick sidewalks and hard wind dragged at him.

An hour after leaving the shelter, he was still walking. He was strong, but hunger and cold started to wear him down. His feet, in their cracked shoes, were numb. Music sounded, so lightly at first that he wondered whether he was hallucinating from cold and hunger.

Notes floated in the air, as if borne by the snow. He rounded a corner and there it was---Jakku Manor. Rey's home. His heart pounded as it loomed out of the sleety mist. It always pounded when he came here, just as it pounded whenever she was near. He usually came in through the back entrance, when her parents were at work and Rey and her younger brother in school.

The maid left at noon and from noon to one the house was his to explore. He could move in and out like a ghost. The back door lock was flimsy, and he'd been picking locks ever since he was about five years of age.

He'd wander from room to room, soaking up the rich, scented atmosphere of Rey's home.

The shelter rarely had hot water, but still he took care to wash as well as he could whenever he headed out to Jakku Manor. The stench of the shelter had no place in Rey's home. Jakku Manor was far beyond what he could ever hope to have that there was no jealousy, no envy in him as he touched the backs of the thousands of books in the library, walked into the sweet-smelling closets full of new clothes, opened the huge refrigerator to see all kinds of fresh fruits and vegetables.

Rey's family was rich in a way that he couldn't comprehend, as if they belonged to a different species living on another planet. To him, it was simply Rey's world. And living in it for an hour a day was like touching the sky.

Today nobody could see him approach through the wintery storm. He walked right up the driveway, feeling the gravel through the thin soles of his shoes.

The snow intensified, the wind whipping painful icy particles through the air. Ben knew how to move quietly, stealthily when he had to. But it wasn't necessary now. There was no one to see him as he crunched way over to the window.

The music was much louder now, the source a yellow glow. It wasn't until he had reached the end of the driveway that Ben realized that the yellow glow was the big-twelve window-pane window of the living room, and the music was of someone playing the piano.

He knew that living room layout well, as he knew all of the rooms of the big mansion. He'd wandered them all, for hours. He knew that huge living room always smelled faintly of wood-smoke from the big marble fireplace. He knew that the couches were deep and comfortable and rugs on the floor, soft and thick.

He walked straight up to the window. The snow was already filling in the cracks that his shoe made. No one could see him, no one could hear him.

He was tall, and could see over the windowsill if he stood on tiptoe. Light had drained from the sky, and he knew no one in the room could see him standing outside. The living room was something out of a painting. Hundreds of candles flickered everywhere---on the mantelpiece, on all the tables. The coffee table held the remains of a feast---half a ham on a carving board, a huge loaf of bread, a big platter of cheeses, several cakes, and two pies.

A teapot, cups, glasses, an open bottle of wine, a bottle of whisky. Water pooled inside his mouth. He hadn't eaten for two whole days. His empty stomach ached terribly. He could almost smell the good in the room through the windowpane.

And then food completely disappeared from his mind. A lovely soft voice rang out, clear and pure, singing a Christmas carol he'd heard once in a shopping mall while he helped his dad panhandle. 

Something about a little shepherd boy. It was Rey's voice. He'd recognize it anywhere. 

A frigid gust of wind buffeted the garden, raking his face with sleet. He didn't even feel it as he edged his head farther up the windowsill. There she was! As always, his breath caught when he saw her. She was so beautiful, it sometimes hurt him to look at her.

When she visited him in the shelter, he'd refuse to look at her for the first few minutes. It was like looking straight into the blazing sun. He watch her hungrily, committing each second to memory. He remembered every word she'd ever spoke to him, he'd read and re-read every book that she'd ever brought him, he remembered every single item of clothing he'd ever seen her in.

She was over at the piano, playing. He'd never see anyone actually play the piano, and it seemed like magic to him. Her fingers moved gracefully over the black and white keys, and music poured out like water in a stream.

His head filled with the wonder of it. She was in profile. Her eyes were closed as she played, a slight smile on her face, as if she and the music shared a secret understanding.

She was singing another song even recognized. "Silent Night." Her angel-like voice rose, pure and light. The piano was tall and black, with lit candles held in shiny brass holders along the sides. Though the entire room was filled with candles, Rey glowed more brightly than any of them. 

She was lit with light, her pale skin gleaming in the glowing candlelight as she sang and continued to play. The song came to an end, and her hands dropped down to her lap. She slowly looked up, smiling, at the applause, then started another carol, her voice rising again, pure and high.

The whole family was there, Mr. Kenobi, a big-shot businessman, tall, blond, looking on proudly like he was the king of the world. Mrs. Kenobi, impossibly beautiful and elegant. Toby, Rey's seven-year-old brother. There was also another person in the room, a rather handsome young man.

He was elegantly dressed, his dark brown curly hair combed straight back. His fingers were beating time with the carol on the piano top. When Rey stopped playing, he leaned down and gave her a firm kiss on the mouth.

Rey's parents laughed, and Toby did a somersault on the big rug. Rey smiled up at the handsome young man and said something that made him laugh.

He bent to kiss her hair. Ben watched his heart nearly stopping. This was Rey's boyfriend, no doubt. Of course. They shared a look---poised, privileged. Good-looking, rich, educated. They belonged to the same species. They were meant to be together, it was so clear. 

His heat slowed in his chest. For the first time, he felt the danger from the cold. He felt its icy fingers reaching out to him to drag him down to where his father had gone. Maybe he should just let it take him. There was nothing left for him here, in this lovely candlelit room.

He could never be apart of this world. Her world. He belonged to the darkness and the cold. Ben dropped back down on his heels, backing slowly away from the house until the yellow light of the window was lost in the sleet and mist. He was shaking with the cold as he trudged back down the driveway, the wet snow seeping through the holes in shoes to soak his feet. Half an hour later, he came to the interstate junction and stopped, swaying on his feet. The human in him wanted to sink to the ground, curl up in a ball, and wait for despair and then death to take him, as they had taken his father.

It wouldn't take very long. But the animal inside of him was strong and wanted, fiercely, to live. To the right, the road stretched northward, right up into Canada. To the left, it went south. If he went north, he would die. It was as simple as that. Turning left, Ben shuffled forward, head low, into the icy wind.


	2. Chapter 2

Twelve Years Later

She was here. She could feel her, he could smell her. Walking into the small bookshop with the old-fashioned bell hanging over the door, the man now known as Kylo Ren knew he'd finally found her. He was exhausted, having travleled for over forty-eight hours straight, on a pirouge from Obuja to Freetown, via Air Afrique from Lungi Airport to Pairs, Air France from Pairs to Atlanta, Delta from Atlanta to Seattle, then a rickety puddle jumper he could have flown himself better to Summerville.

Even through his exhaustion though, his senses were keen. Twelve years later, he could still recognize her touches. The candles in the windowsill, the gentle harp music playing faintly in the background, a smell of cinnamon, vanilla, roses and of course, her. 

They were unmistakable, unforgettable. Coming in from the airport, the news that she was still living in Summerville and, astonishingly, still singly had blown him away.

He hadn't been expecting that at all. He hadn't been expecting anything but difficulty and frustration in tracking her down. He had all the time in the world do it in, now. Colonel Luke Skywalker's unfortunate death had finally freed him from bonds of loyalty and love. 

The day after the Colonel's death, Kylo had sold ENP Security and flown to Sierra Leone to take care of the last of his responsibility to the man who'd become something like a father overnight.

It had cost gunfire and bloodshed, pain and violence, but he'd taken care of the mess as his father had asked on his deathbed. Kylo had done just what had to be done, salvaged his father/uncle's reputation, punished the fuckers who'd mounted a rogue operation, and was finally, finally free from all responsibility for the first time in twelve years. His life as a Ranger and his duty to the Colonel and his company had left his busy.

AS long as the Colonel was alive, Kylo had tried to keep Rey out of his head, and he was successful, mostly---except at night. She had her own life, wherever it was, and he had the Colonel to serve.

But after stopping Armitage Hux, he was finally free. He'd turned straight around and flown as fast as modern aviation could take him from Africa to Summerville. 

It was beyond crazy, he knew it was crazy to look for her here twelve years later. Why would Rey stay here in Summerville? She was beautiful, talented, rich and smart. She'd end up where all beautiful, smart, talented, rich women go--some big city on a coast. Hell, maybe even abroad.

And no way could she still be single, not someone who looked like Rey. She'd be married with kids. Any man in his right mind would snatch her right up and keep her pregnant to be sure that she stayed.

He had no illusions, Rey wasn't for him. She was probably happy and fulfilled, with a family of her very own. Kylo knew he'd never have a family, it wasn't in his identity. But Kylo had to see her. _Needed_ to see her, like he needed to breathe. 

Just one more look before starting the next stage of his life, whatever that would be. He'd closed the door on the ENP Security when he'd buried his father-like figure.

The company was gone, the house sold. Everything he needed was in his duffel bag and suitcase. He was ready to turn the page, right after one last look at her. So he'd come here to start his quest, to the last place he'd been before becoming Kylo Ren, to the last place he'd seen Rey.

Her family was established here, there was bound to be a way to track her down. He didn't care where she'd gone---whether she was still in the U.S or had settled abroad or had gone to the moon. Her was an excellent tracker--the best there was. He'd find her, eventually, however long it took. He had the rest of his life to do it in, and he certainly wasn't hurting for money.

Just one look, and he'd disappear forever. In the end, he didn't have to track her down, though. The taxi driver in from the airport knew exactly where she was.

Here. Right here, where she'd been all along. In Summerville. Single. Kylo had been planning on checking into a nearby hotel, cleaning up, having a nice meal in a restaurant, then sleeping for twenty-four hours. He'd been in a firefight, and he'd been traveling for two days straight. He was exhausted.

It was also Christmas Even. Everything would be closed on Christmas Day and the next day, Sunday. On Monday, he planned to start his search for Rey. But then the taxi driver said Rey Kenobi-- _-his_ Rey Kenobi---was still in Summerville and ran a small bookshop, and so there was no question where he'd go next. Straight to her.

Quick, light footsteps on the hardwood floor and _shit_ , before he was ready, there she was.

"Oh!" Rey Kenobi stopped suddenly, the welcoming smile dying on her face as she saw him. "He-hello, there."

He knew what she saw. She saw a tall, heavily muscled man with shaggy length black hair, dressed in cheap, rough, dirty crumpled clothes. He hadn't showered or shaved in at least three days, and he knew that lines of exhaustion creased his stubbled face. He knew what she felt, too. Scared.

She was alone with him. He had unusually sharp hearing and he heard no other human sounds in the small shop. The icy sleep storm outside was so severe that the streets outside were deserted, as well. If he turned out to be violent, there would be no one to hear her cries for help. There was nothing he could do about the way he looked--dangerous. 

The truth was, he was every inch as dangerous as he looked. Though, Rey couldn't possibly see the Glock in the shoulder holster, or the tactical folder in the boot or the .22 in the ankle holster, an armed man carries himself differently than an unarmed man. He'd killed four men two days and two continents ago.

At some subliminal level, she was picking up on this. She was standing very still, nostrils slightly flared, instructively pulling in oxygen in case she had to run. She wouldn't know that she was doing, but he did. He was an expert on human prey and how it reacted to danger. First, defuse her fears.

He stood utterly still, watching her carefully. He would rather rip his own throat out than dream of hurting her in any way, but she couldn't know that. All she knew was she was all alone with a big, potentially violent man. 

"Good evening." He kept his voice low and without inflection. Calm. 

He kept his body language utterly nonthreatening, moving only his lungs to breathe. Not smiling, not frowning. It was only way he knew to reassure her. Words wouldn't do it.

Stillness could. If he were crazy, he couldn't stay so still. Agitated minds make for agitated bodies. It worked. She relaxed slightly, nodded, smiled. He couldn't smile back. For a second, he couldn't even breathe.

 _Christ, she is so fucking beautiful._ She'd somehow become even more beautiful than his memory of her. How could that be? Slender yet curvy. Not tall, yet long-limbed. Her hair was the richest color he'd ever seen---chestnut, with light highlights running through it. Her coloring was so vivid the eye naturally gravitated wo where she was.

Kylo couldn't imagine looking at another woman while Rey was in the room. She stepped back slightly. He was still staring at her. Worse, was that he as scaring her.

"Terrible weather," he rumbled. His voice was deep, unusually so, but he kept his tone even and low.

It took a huge effort, one of the hardest things he'd ever done in a life, but he finally took his eyes off of her. Hungry as he was for the very sight of her, he couldn't keep staring or she'd freak. 

It was a pretty bookshop, with a high, beamed ceiling, hardwood floor with what looked like expensive rugs scattered around, pinewood shelves and tables with bestsellers on them. She harp music had given way to a cappella choir of women's voices singing madrigals. Over the smell of her--soap, shampoo, and the scent of roses that haunted his nights---he could smell potpourri, candle wax and resin from the small Christmas tree decorated with miniature books standing in a big ceramic pot in the corner.

The entire shop was warm and welcoming, a delight to all the senses. Kylo had good peripheral vision and kept looking around until she visibly relaxed. 

He turned back to her. "Very nice bookshop you've got here. My highest compliments."

Her lips turned up in a slight smile. "Thank you very much. And it's not usually so deserted like this. I was expecting a Christmas Eve for all the lazybones who haven't bought their presents yet, but I guess the weather has kept everyone indoors."

Kylo had tried not to frown and look disapproving. What was the matter with her? Jesus, the last thing she should do when _alone_ with a man was out just how alone they were. She;d always been like that, too trusting.

Once, in the shelter, old man McMurtry, doped up on God knows what shit he'd scored on the streets, had sidled up to her when she'd smiled at him. 

Kylo knew what McMurtry was like when he was high off his ass. The filthy fucker would have put his hands on Rey if Kylo hadn't blocked him. After Rey left, Kylo had shoved McMurtry up against the wall, showed him the Bowie knife he'd shoplifted and promised McMurtry that if he even so much breathed in Rey's directon, ever again, he could kiss his balls good-bye.

Kylo had meant every word. Pretty, slender ringless hands opened wide. "Can I help you with something? We have a fairly good selection of books, and i can order anything that you want if we don't stock it. It takes about a week to arrive, though." She smiled up at him.

She was a woman now. A stunningly beautiful woman, whose face showed the sorrows she'd suffered. The chatty taxicab driver had told him all about Rey and the downfall of the Kenobi's. Kylo had heard all about the car-accident that had killed both of her parents and injured her little brother.

The discover at their death that Mr. Kenobi had been making bad investments, that there was no money to cover the hospital bills, with barely enough to pay for the double funeral. Then after six years of caring for an invalid brother, only to lose him two months ago, saddling her with even more debts. All of that showed in her face.

Faint lines starred her eyes, though they were still that haunting golden-hazel color. She'd slimmed down even more.

The young Rey had, had a lovely open face with a perpetually sunny smile. This Rey had showed sorrow and serenity, the sunniness all gone. And yet, Kylo could still see the young Rey, the heart of her---the lovely, gently girl who'd befriended an outside inside the beautiful woman who'd known heartache and grief. The young girl had haunted his days and nights. The woman in front of him brought him down to his knees.

Christ, he was staring at her again, lost. She'd said something---something about books. He didn't want books. He wanted her.

"The sign.," he said.

"I beg your pardon?" She swirled a lock of dark hair behind her small ear. He'd seen her do it a hundred times.

"You've got a sign at the front of the shop. ROOMS TO LET. Do you still have a room available?"

It had been the motor-mouth taxi driver who'd told him that Rey rented rooms to boarders to boost her income from the bookshop. Rey looked at him for a long moment, clearly sizing him up. 

He couldn't shrink and he couldn't shave and he couldn't take a shower and he couldn't change his clothes right then. All he could do was remain motionless and keep his expression neutral. There was nothing he could say or to do convince her if she didn't trust him enough to want him in her own home. The only thing he could do was wait.

And hope. Finally, Rey sighed. "Yes, as it happens, my most recent boarders just left, so I do have a room. But let's discuss it sitting down, why don't we? You can leave those behind my desk if you'd like."

"Those" were his ancient duffle bag with the brand-new luggage lock and a suitcase. No way was he leaving them out of his sight. "Thanks, but I'll just put them down next to me so that no one will trip over them," he said casually, hefting the duffel bag over his shoulder and picking up the suitcase. 

She nodded and turned to walk between the rows of books to the back corner of the shop, where a small sitting area had been set up. Though she was more slender than when was as a girl, she was also curvier. She had a tiny waist that begged for his hands, rounding to a perfect ass. He had to work hard to keep his eyes off it, in case she turned around and found him ogling her.

That would have got him tossed out on his ass, PDQ. Kylo recognized a couch and two armchairs that had once been in her father's study. They were old and worn but still looked comfortable. Kylo put his duffel bag behind one of the small armchairs and sat down on it, hoping that it would take his weight.

He wasn't built for old, delicate furniture, but he needn't have worried. The armchair might be shabby, but it was of good quality.

"Would you like me to take your jacket, Mr---?" Rey held out a hand.

"Ren. Kylo Ren. And no, thanks, I'm still a little chilled from the weather outside." 

"I can imagine," she murmured, withdrawing her hand.

Jesus, he couldn't take his jacket off. Out of reflex, and because he hated being unarmed, he'd grabbed his bag off the carousel and ducked into the nearest men's room to slip his Glock into his shoulder rig. And when he'd completely forgotten about it.

He'd had no idea whatsoever that an hour after landing, he'd actually be sitting down, with Rey, wo wanted him to take off his jacket.

Kylo was very, very good at strategic planning. He'd been born with it. The Colonel Skywalker and the Army had taken that and refined it. Kylo had been an outstanding operative, always been able to think several moves ahead. The fact that he hadn't thought to hide his weapon before entering the bookshop, where he might be expected to take his jacket off, was his own personal radar.

That was exactly the kind of mistake that could have gotten him killed on the job. But even without the weapon, he couldn't take off his jacket. No way.

Besides his weapon, he had a hard-on. A huge blue-steeler that felt more like a club between his legs, and his pants were just loose enough to show it. Walking being Rey, watching the way of her hips and the way her hair bounced on her shoulders, sniffing the air in her wake---every hormone in his body woke up and smelled her roses.All 

All the blood in his body had streamed straight down to his cock. Well, that was guaranteed to keep him off her list of possible boarders. No woman in the world would agree to have a man in the house who swelled erect just by looking at her.

This was insane. Kylo's body was to his command. It did his bidding, always. If he needed to go without food or water or sleep, his body obeyed.

Extremes of heat and cold didn;'t bother him. Sex was never a problem. When he wanted to fuck, he got a hard-on and when he didn't, his dick stayed right down between his legs. 

But watching Rey's graceful walk to the back of the shop, hips gently swaying, he got massively aroused with each step that she took. All he'd wanted was a small glimpse of her. Getting to live with her in Jakku Manor within an hour of landing at the airport was something he hadn;t even thought to hope for. And yet here he was, maybe five or ten minutes away from actually living with Rey, in Jakku Manor, and he was about to blow it.

He couldn't think of anything more likely to disqualify himself as a potential boarder than his dick flying right in her face.

She was the only person on the face of the earth who could mess with his mind and his dick that way. Nothing ever got in the way of what he wanted. Certainly not sex. Sex was fun and sometimes necessary to blow off some steam, but it wasn't something he allowed to interfere with his life, ever. Kylo was intensely mission-oriented.

He focused narrowly on the mission, whatever it was, to the exclusion of everything else. The mission now was to move into Rey's house, and he shouldn't have allowed anything to cloud his mind, let alone stiffen his cock.

His boner shocked the shit out of him. That wasn't how he worked. He was in control, always.

* * *

Not now, though. All thoughts fled from his mind as he walked in behind Rey. She was wearing pretty pointy-toed shoes with high heels, impossible shoes for the sleety afternoon but perfect to showcase, long slender calves and delicate ankles.

There was a slight, rhythmic hiss of stocking as she walked, and he had felt the pulses of it through his own skin. The rhythm of her heels tapping on the wood matched his heartbeat exactly, the little flutter of a silk red blouse as she walked echoing the flutter of blood rippling through his veins.

"Here," she said and, looking around, he thought, _yes, here. Great._

On the couch, on the rug, on the hardwood floors. Against the wall, bent over the counter. Anywhere, just as long as he could get in her and stay there for hours at a time.

It was only when she cocked her head to one side, a slight frown between dark eyebrows and said, "Mr. Ren?" in a light, inquisitive tone, that Kylo realized with a jolt to his system what he was doing. Fucking it up, that's what he was doing. He _never_ fucked up.

So he gritted his teeth, managed a quiet. "Thank you" through clenched jaws and sat, forcing himself to think of Sierra Leone, Obuja and Armitage Hux. Of blood and betrayal, torture and the screaming of women and children. So much blood the ground was soaked with it, running in red rivulets. Women bayoneted to death. Highly trained soldiers using young children as target practice.

The sniper's red mist around kid's heads as the shot went home....

Yeah, that did it. The images cooled his blood and sickened his heart. His cock went straight back down. His teeth were clenching so tightly that it was a miracle that he didn't have shards of enamel coming out of his ears. Rey must have felt something wrong was in the air, because she sat gingerly on the edge of the armchair, knees and calves and feet aligned, arms across slightly around midriff, her body language tight.

Unconsciously ready to stand up or even leap up if he made her any more uncomfortable than he clearly already had. He was a man who kept his cool in armed combat, but seeing her change her body language literally scared the shit out of him. _He'd_ done that.

He'd made her feel edgy and wary, when he knew he should have done everything in his power to reassure her. After all, he loved her.

Maybe it was just the exhaustion and all the jet lag. Nine time zones, a total of thirty-six hours in the air and had gotten maybe about six hours' sleep in all. Whatever it was that was making him groggy and horny and a complete dumb-ass, he had to shape up fast or he'd been tossed out on his ear.

He cleared this throat, "So, ma'am." He looked her straight in the eyes, heroically never allowing the gaze to drop to her breasts or her legs, and made his expression impassive. "As I said, I understand that you have a room to let. I'm looking for a place to stay, and a room sounds just fine for now until I find my feet. You said that you have a room free?"

Rey breathed in and out. Kylo knew what her head was saying-- _-no, no way. Are you fucking crazy? This guy's scary-looking and could be nuts. Don't do it, Rey._

But Rey also thought with her heart. Her eyes dropped and fixed on his tattered boots. They were his combat boots and were ancient and cracked and stained. The hells were worn down. A solider always looks after his feet, she knew that much. In the field, a blister can get infected and turn a foot gangrenous in less than twenty-four hours. His combat boots were comfortable and waterproof and had evidently served him well. 

He hadn't even thought about changing into better shoes when making his way back. What Rey saw was a man with worn clothes, a little stubble on his chin and down-at-heel boots. A man who look liked he'd traveled hard and long and was down on his luck.

He could see the softening of her eyes. She then lifted her gaze into his and uncrossed her arms and sat back in the armchair slightly. 

Yes. Oh shit, yes! It was a done deal. It was going to be okay. Bless her soft heart. She'd made the decision. Not it was just a question of finding the right words, the ones to convince her head to take a chance on him because her heart already had. He could still manage to fuck it up, but not if he paid close enough attention and said the right things. 

Rey had relaxed a bit, but she still wasn't smiling. "Um, yes, actually I do. I have two rooms, actually, a single and a double and they are both free at the moment. One boarder left two weeks ago, and the other boarder left four days ago."

"So I'm in luck then." He tried on a small smile. "I'll take it. The double will work for me, because I like my space."

She sighed and dropped her eyes to where a long, pink-tipped finger was playing with a loose thread. She git her lips, clearly struggling with something. She sighed again, a light exhalation of breath. When she lifted her eyes to his again, she'd finally come to a decision.

"The double room I have is very spacious and quite comfortable, Mr. Ren, and in a beautiful old home about a mile and half from the city center. The price includes free meals and---" she finally smiled--"I assure you that I am a very good cook."

Oh, Jesus, Rey and _food_. Kylo nearly fell to his knees weeping. He hadn't had a decent meal in....shit. Since before Afghanistan. 

He dipped his head. "Sounds wonderful, ma'am. It's just exactly what I need, since I practically can't boil water, I'll--"

"Wait." She put up a slender hand and took a deep breath as to brace herself. She looked him straight in the eyes. "That's actually that's the good news. The bad news is that the comes with the Boiler Room from Hell, which unfortunately has been going on the blink every other day, even after having being fixed by the Repairman from Hell."

She glanced at the whiteout outside the window. In the sudden silence, they could hear the icy needles pinging against the windowpane.

"And this weather...well, let's just say it can get a bit uncomfortable. And the lighting is sometimes erratic, there's some wires crossed somewhere, and no one can seem to find it. If you work on a computer, it makes it hard, and my last boarder said that he lost several important files. And since I seem to in all confession mode here, two treads of the staircase are broken, so if you forget and walk down the stairs at night to get a glass of milk or something, you're fairly like to break your neck."

It was extremely hard to keep from snorting. Kylo had been waiting for this for _twelve fucking years_ to see her again, never actually believing that it would ever happen. He'd dreamed of it on the cold, stony ground while underdoing weeklong training exercises. 

It had kept him awake in the jungles of Indonesia and for six long, freezing months in a winter barracks in Afghanistan. And she thought a little cold, some flickering lights and broken treads could somehow manage to keep him away? Not even the hounds of hell couldn't keep him away from her. He was finally here with her and that's where he was going to stay.

"I think you'll find that I'm quite used to discomfort, ma'am," he said. "A little cold here and there won't bother me, believe me. I have a laptop with good batteries and I'll be extra careful on the stairs. And I'm actually very pretty handy with my hands, so let me see if can do some repairs around the house for you."

"Oh!" Rey blinked. "Wow! That's---that's very kind of you. And incredibly useful. I can only hope that you're better than that Mack the Jerk, which is what I call the grumpy old fart who comes and fumbles around my house and takes my money." She swallowed, her pretty pale throat convulsing. "And of course, you can deduct any repairs you make from the rent. Please, I insist."

Something clenched tightly in Kylo's chest. She clearly needed the money. Even the cab driver knew she needed the money, probably all of Summerville knew she needed the money, but here she was, willing to give him a break on the rent for his help,

It was literally impossible for Rey to take advantage of someone. Whatever else happened, whatever went down between them, Kylo vowed that she'd never have money problems again for the rest of her life.

"Oh, it's no problem, ma'am, really," he said gently. "I like to work. I'm not used to being idle, anyways. I don't mind making repairs, fixing things up here and there. It'll give me something to do while I settle in."

She titled her head to one side. "So you were in the military, Mr. Ren?"

"Yes, ma'am, I was. Army. A Ranger, for seven years. And my father was career military, as well. Retired a full colonel. He built up a security company afterwards, and I quit the military to help him run it. He, unfortunately, died last week." A spasm of grief---uncontrollably, unstoppable---crossed his face.

"Oh, my," she said softly, reaching across to touch his hand. The touch was brief, meant to be consoling, and it burned. It was all he could do to keep from snatching her hand. "I am so, so sorry. I too know perfectly well what it is to lose a parent. It's incredibly painful. You have my deepest condolences."

He inclined his head, unable to speak. Silence. So thick that it was a constant a presence within the room. The only sound was the wind rattling the window in its casing.

Kylo had just got his dick down, but in the meantime something had happened to his throat. It was tight, and hot. A wild tangle of emotions warred in his chest, emotions that he didn't dare let out, but that felt like hot knives slicing away inside of him. Both Grief. Lust. Sorrow. Joy. He'd lost his father, and he'd found Rey. She watched him, saying nothing, as if she understood what was really going on inside of him.

Finally, she broke the silence. "Well, Mr. Ren, I guess I have a new boarder."

He lifted his eyes to hers and coughed to loose his throat. "Yes, I guess you do, ma'am. And please call me Kylo."

"All right then, Kylo. And I'm Rey. Rey Kenobi." Kylo nearly smiled. The one and only time he ever got drunk was the day the Colonel received news that he had inoperable stomach cancer. Kylo accompanied the Colonel home, saw him into bed, and then went right back out again. That night he got hammered and woke up two days later in some bimbo's bed with the big ornate "C" tattooed on his right biceps. He knew who she was, all right.

Kylo asked, because he knew she was probably expecting it sometime. "So, how much is the rent per month?" 

"Five hundred dollars a month." she said it sorrowfully, watching his eyes again. "I know that sounds like a lot, but, really---"

He held his hand up, palm out. "That's fine. Sounds totally reasonable. Particularly, if it comes with meals, not to mention meals prepared by a food cook. I'll save a lot on going out to restaurants. So....how do I get out there?" He knew perfectly well how to get to Jakku Manor, but it would sound weird if he didn't ask.

"Do you have a car, Mr. Ren?"

"No, not yet, anyways. I came in straight from the airport in a taxi. I'll rent something on Monday."

Rey stood, and he stood too, catching the handle of his bag. He was too close to her and stepped back immediately. It was an instinctive reaction. He was so tall that he had to be careful not to loom over people. He particularly didn't want to make Rey feel uneasy.

* * *

"Well, no one else will be coming in today, not in this weather, anyways," She gave a rueful shrug. "I think I'll just close up the shop for the day. You can just ride home with me, Mr. Ren."

"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate it."

"Okay, Kylo, and do please call me Rey."

"Rey," he said, the word passing his lips for the first time in over twelve years. She was staring up at him and seemed lost in thought. He waited a beat, then--"Rey? Ma'am?"

Rey shook herself slightly. "Yes...um....why don't you just wait for me at the front door? I need to close down my computer and then change my shoes."

She looked down at her pretty red shoes, guaranteed to melt within the snow. Kylo looked down, too. Their feet made an almost shocking contrast, as if they belonged to two different species instead of two sexes---Rey's in the pretty, small, pointy red heels and Kylo's In his huge, ancient, battered combat boots. Their heads came up at the same time, and their eyes locked onto one another.

Kylo clutched his bag tightly, because the temptation to reach out and touch her was almost unbearable. He'd never touched her, not once, in all the times she'd visited the shelter.

He'd thought about it endlessly, but he'd never dared. Only seventeen years old at the time when she had first come to seen him at the shelter, it moved quickly from something other than just a simple crush. Rey was his soulmate. Kylo felt it in his bones. They were meant to be together.

Rey moved to her office, behind a waist-high counter. His knuckles tightened on the handle of the bag as he listened to the beeping sounds of a computer system closing down behind the cubicle wall. Her head disappeared as she bent down to change her shoes. Rey came out wearing lines boots, a wool cap and an eiderdown coat that reached almost to her ankles. 

Even bundled up so much it could have been a man or Martian in there, she was desirable it hurt. He watched her walk gracefully to a wall panel, switch off the lights and open the door. Her gasp was loud even over the roar of the wind. 

It was like opening a gateway to a freezing cold, icy hell. The wind had risen and was howling like a tortured soul in the deepest reaches of the underworld, driving painful needs of sleet that stung the skin. It was so cold, in fact, it stole the breath straight out of your lungs. 

"Oh my God!" Recoiling as if someone had slapped in the face, Rey stepped back straight into Kylo's arms. "Oops, sorry."

But Kylo didn't mind at all, not in the slightest. He quickly pulled Rey into the room and fought wind for control of the door. He actually had to put some muscle into it. He leaned against it, held out his a hand and put a command in his voice. "Give me your keys, Rey."

Just that brief exposure had Rey shivering all over. It took her several tries to open her purse but she made it and dropped a set of keys into his palm. Then blinked at her obedience. 

"Why would you even try to do something like--"

"You'll freeze to death out here, doll. What make is your car and where did you park it? I'll bring it around for you and park right out in front of you so that you don't have to walk around in this damn crazy blizzard."

Rey looked so confused. He was such a gentlemen that it took her completely off guard. She couldn't remember the last time a man had willingly gone out of his way to do _something_ just for her. It was nice. She liked it. "It's a green Fiat. It's parked just around the corner to the right. But listen, Kylo, you're not dressed for the---"

Yet, when turned to look for him, she was talking to the swirling snowy thin air. 


	3. Chapter 3

_I swear, I am either very lucky or very crazy_ , Rey thought, shivering in her coat as she stood in the sidewalk. Just thirty seconds exposed to the swirling freezing hell out there, it felt as if she'd spent the whole winter camping out in Antarctica. She was chilled down to her bones. Lucky or crazy? So, which was it? Lucky, that a handsome, strong contender had come along, because she really needed the $500 desperately, and it had fallen literally into her lap from the sky on a day when she could never have hoped to find a new boarder.

Paying off Toby's medical bills had required taking out a huge loan against Jakku Manor, and the money from her previous boarders was essential. She couldn't possibly make the mid-January payment without the $500.

She'd been heartsick four days ago when Mr. and Mrs. Calrissian had come down to breakfast to announce that _we're so sorry honey, but we're moving out._ They were supposed to stay until mid-May, until renovation work on their brand new home was completed.

But Mr. Calrssian had lost several chapters of biography of Chewbacca Hamilton to a short circuit somewhere in the house and, the crowning blow, Mrs. Calrissian had contracted bronchitis because of the frequent breakdowns of the boiler. There was no money at all to help pay an electrician to test the wiring to out the source of the short circuit, and Rey could probably fly to the moon more easily than she could afford a whole new boiler.

At this rates she'd still be paying off her debts when she was eighty years old. Hell, if she even lived that long. So far, her family's batting average in terms of extended life expectancy wasn't all too encouraging.

Mrs. Calrissian had been in tears at the thought of leaving, and it had taken all of Rey's self-control not to break down into tears herself. The Calrissian's were a lovely couple and had been living with her for almost a year. They'd been delightful company had provided enormous comfort to her during Toby's last days.

Rey didn't know how she could have faced coming home to an empty house from the hospital. And after Toby's funeral....she shivered.

In the beginning, the Calrissian's often remarked that they could never remodel their home into anything as beautiful as Jakku Manor. That was before the lost files, the constant cold showers and waking up to ice in the bathroom sinks. Rey knew that Mr. and Mrs. Calrissian were very fond of her and loved her cooking and that it was only Mrs. Calrissian's bout of bronchitis that forced their decision to leave.

Joanna Calrissian was fragile and Lando, her husband, was afraid of losing her. Still, he'd had tears in her eyes at the thought of leaving, too. 

Finding a new boarder on Christmas Eve in this terribly weather was like finding a wonderful miracle. Not to mention the biggie---not being alone on Christmas Day. The day she'd lost both her parents to a hideous car accident. The same day that her little brother, Toby, was so injured that he never walked again.

It had taken him six pain-filled years to die. So that was the lucky theory. 

Then of course, there was the crazy theory, which was probably more of the correct one. She was probably crazy to accept a man who not only looked as dangerous as Kylo Ren into her home and, as if that wasn't crazy enough, handing him her keys to her car half an hour after just first meeting him. Landon and Joanna had been the safest people on the face of the earth---two darlings in their late fifties whose worst vice were Double Chocolate Fudge ice-cream and an unholy passion for Gilbert & Sullivan. 

Lando could recite the lyrics to _H.M.S Pinafore_ at the drop of a hat. Kylo Ren, on the other hand, looked anything but safe. She'd felt her heart speed up as they talked, ridiculous as that sounded.

Yet, he looked rather scary. He was rough-looking, tall, with the kind of muscles you can't buy in a gym and an air of rocklike toughness. He was also attractive as hell, which was something she'd never encountered in all her previous boarders. Frightening, but sexy.

So there might be a third theory to add to the lucky and crazy explanations---sudden hormonal overload.

When she'd briefly touched his arm, a shiver had run down her spine. She'd felt the steely muscle through his shirt and thin jacket, the hardest man she'd ever touched. And a flash of instant heat had run straight through her at the idea that he has probably hard as that....all over. Not that he'd done anything to make her feel uncomfortable other than being so frighteningly large and.....and dangerous-looking. The exact opposite of Lando Calrissian, with his predilection of cardigans encasing sloped shoulders, and thin arms.

Kylo Ren's massive musculature was visible through a shirt and jacket. He was the most thoroughly male man she'd ever met and sexy as hell. 

And Rey, who never lied to herself, realized that in the end, it was the real reason that she'd said yes. God help her, that flash of heat had been the reason she'd said yes. It had been a really long time since she'd felt it.

If she had the sense that God gave a duck, she really should have said no to him. No to him as a boarder and certainly no to handing over the car keys to a perfect and total stranger. Who knew who he was? Maybe he was a serial killer or....or a war veteran suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder and who would one day soon crack and climb a tower and start sniping at passerby's. 

Maybe one day they'd find her lifeless body in a pool of her own blood, or he'd make off with what very little family silver remained. No one in the right-mind ever took in a boarder without checking background references. Mr. And Mrs. Calrissian had been recommended by the head of her bank and had known her parents personally.

But who in this town knew Kylo Ren? But his deep voice had been so calm, that big body of his, so still. And the look of absolute grief that had crossed his face when he spoke of his father's death....that had been real, and deep. Rey recognized true grief---after all, she was the world's greatest expert at it.

He looked scruffy and tired, as if he'd been traveling for a really long time. His jacket was way too light for the gelid temperature outside, and his clothes were rumpled, as if he'd slept in them for days.

His boots were old and worn. Rey knew those boots had been and see things and they had been the last straw. They were the boots of a man down on his luck. Rey knew all about being down on your luck. There was something else about the man, too, besides his sexiness and steadiness. Something almost....familiar.

Which only reinforced the crazy theory, because she'd never set eyes on him before in her life. She'd never set eyes on anyone _like_ him before. 

None of the men she knew had hands that large and that strong, or shoulders that broad. None of the men she knew moved with such an athletic grace and tensely could energy, like a blaze that was temporarily banked but could flare into life at any given moment. Not in the military anymore, he'd said, but still had a military bearing---square-shouldered, ramrod-straight back, great economy movement.

And saying _ma'am_ all the time. It was sweet, but not exactly the favored mode of address of men talking to women in the twenty-first century. Obviously, living with a colonel for a father had definitely rubbed off on him.

The man she knew best was Poe Dameron, and he was as far from Kylo Ren as it was possible to be. Dameron was tall, though not as tall as Kylo, dark-haired, classically handsome and impossibly elegant. If Rey had only half the money that Dameron spent each month on clothes, her financial worries would be over. Of course, her financial problems could be over tomorrow, Dameron made that clear enough, particularly now that poor Toby was gone.

If she married Dameron and became Mrs. Dameron, life would go back to what it had been before her parents had died. Safe, secure, comfortably wealthy. 

On bad days, much like this one, with the Calrissian's gone, the possibility of coming home to a freezing cold house that would stay freezing until Monday afternoon because the Jerk was the only person on earth who could coax her boiler back to temporary life, and he didn't make house calls om holidays, a Christmas Eve with no sales at all, the prospect of being alone on Christmas Day, of all the days of the year---well, on days like this, the thought of marrying Dameron made a lot of sense.

Except, of course, for the minor fact that her skin crawled at the very thought of kissing him, let alone sleeping with him, which just went to show that she _was_ crazy. Half the women in town wanted to sleep with Dameron, and the other half already had, putting Rey, as always, within the minority. 

And now, in a bid to shore up the crazy theory, she'd just give a man she didn't know her car keys. The only things she knew about Kylo Ren were that he was a stranger in town and had very little money. Knowing that, what did she do?

Han him the keys, politely, because he'd asked. How smart was that?" If he went and stole her car, how could she get home? She'd be stranded until the weather was clear, with only the weeks-old yogurt, Diet Coke and wizened apple in her small fridge for food. There was no way that a taxi would come out in this weather and---

A sharp rap on the window suddenly made her jump. A second later, Kylo Ren was back in the room, covered in snow. His inky-jet black hair was dusted with white. Even his black lashes had turned white. He gave no sign of being cold, however. He gave no sign of even being uncomfortable. He looked exactly as he had before---tough and self-contained.

"Hey there, need a lift?" he teased. "I've got the car parked right outside." He was so close to Rey now had to tip her head back to meet his eyes. "It's utter hell out there, so we'll have to hurry before we get completely snowed in. Are you warm enough in that coat?"

That was rich, coming from someone wearing a thin denim jacket. "Yes, I'll be fine." She shifted her heavy briefcase from one hand to the other, surprised when he simply took it from her. He was already carrying his own duffel bag and suitcase. "That's okay," she protested. "I can carry that."

He didn't even answer. "Do you need to engage the security system before we go out?"

* * *

Security system? Yeah, right, uh-huh. AS if she had a spare $3,000 dollars stashed away somewhere for a security system to stave off wild-eyed thieves just slavering to rob her complete collection of Jane Austen's and all of her Nora Roberts's. 

"No. I--I uh, I just normally lock the door." She held up the Yale key. "It's got a dead bolt lock, though."

He just looked at her, dark eyes fathomless, then nodded as he took the key. "Okay, I'll lock up for you. If you've got gloves, put them on. I left the engine running, so the car is warm. Let's make it quick."

He seemed to just.....assumed command. The Army and that colonel father had really imprinted him. Still, the idea of having someone else in the car with her in this weather was such a relief. Bad weather terrified her, and this weather was definitely off the charts. Her Fiat was temperamental and ornery and used to the temperature of Italy. It intensely disliked being taken out in the cold.

Breaking down in the middle of a snowstorm was just the kind of thing her cat enjoyed doing. But at least she'd have her new boarder with her if the worse should happen.

Kylo Ren looked strong enough to get the car to Jakku Manor just by looping his belt around the front fender and pulling, if it broke down on the way. He had his hand on the door handle, watching her. "You okay?" he asked quietly. Rey nodded, and he opened the door for her. "Okay, then let's go."

It was exactly like being punched in the face and stomach by a giant, frozen fist. A step outside the door, and Rey couldn't see more than a few inches in front of her face. The snow was falling thickly, wildly, in great sweeping sheets, punctuated by needles of sleet blowing sideways. She couldn't hear anything above the howling of the wind, and the cold penetrated so absolutely, she froze on the spot. Her muscles simply wouldn't obey her.

Something hard and solid across her back propelled her forward. Her feet scrambled to keep up, slipping a little on the ice coating the sidewalk. She couldn't even see her face, though she knew the road was only a few feet away.

A savage gust of wind whipped sleet into her eyes, and she suddenly lost her footing. She stumbled and would surely have fallen flat on her face if Kylo hadn't caught her. He simply picked her up one-armed, opened the door of the car, settled her into the driver's seat and closed the door. A few seconds later, the passenger door opened, and he slid in.

Rey tried to catch her breath, pulling in the heated air of the car to warm her lungs. Thank God, it _was_ warm in the car.

Those few seconds outside had been enough to frighten her to death. She could hardly move except to shiver for long moments. Even though her gloves, her hands were so frozen she could barely feel the steering wheel. 

Rey clutched the steering wheel, visibly shaken. "My God," she whispered. "I've never seen anything like this before." She looked across at the big man quietly watching her. He seemed to fill more than half of her small car. "Thank you for getting me here. I don't know if I could have managed on my own. They would have found my dead, frozen body outside the door shop."

"It's no problem." He ratcheted the car seat as far back as it would go to accommodate his long legs and buckled up. "But we'd better get going. It's not getting any better and we'll both freeze to death."

No kidding. "Okay."

It suddenly occurred to Rey that the instant she'd crossed the threshold, all thoughts had fled her brain---the cold had simply wiped her mind clear. She hadn't even checked to see that Kylo locked up--hadn't even thought about it. He had---she remembered now hearing the snick of the lock turning behind her, but if she'd been on her own, she'd have simply slammed the door shut---or not. And the shop would have been opened all weekend.

And thank God Kylo had gone to get the car. She might easily have missed it, wandering up and down the sidewalk, blinded by all the snow until she ended up a dead frozen lump in the street.

Her little Fiat was humming underneath her feet, rocking slightly from the wind. Rey stared ahead in dismay through the snow-covered window, groping for the stick shift and switching on the windshield wipers. It took a full minute to shift the snow in the windshield. The snow was so heavy she couldn't see past the hood.

There was a lamppost next to the car, she knew, but she couldn't see it.

Kylo was looking at her quietly. "Do you want me to dive instead?"

 _Oh God, yes!_ The words were there, waiting to tumble out. Rey bit her lips to keep them back. She wanted desperately to relinquish the wheel. Bad-weather driving scared her. Bad weather led to accidents. Her parents had died in a blizzard just like this one, when their car slid into an intersection, straight into an oncoming truck..... _no, don't think of that, Rey._

"Rey," he said again. "I really don't mind driving in the snow."

She was tempted. Oh God, was she tempted. Just dump this terrible trip into those large, capable-looking hands of his. He'd probably do a lot better job of it than she, Rey was sure. But this was her car, and it was her responsibility to take her new boarder home. Life had taught her the hard way to face up to her problems herself, without someone's help.

"No, that's okay, Kylo." Bringing the seat forward, she put the car into first and pressed down on the accelerator. The wheels spun, then bit. Well, so far, so good. "I'm fine," she lied, and eased slowly out into the street. Into what she hoped was the street.

Good thing she knew her way home blindfolded, because that's the way she was driving. Great white sheets of snow came hurling out of the sky, sometimes driven horizontal by the howling wind, driving the flakes into wild circular flurries. Sometimes it looked as if it were actually snowing _upwards._ Rey punched on the radio on, an old habit of hers when driving in bad weather.

She spent most of her time alone in the car, and the radio made her feel connected to the rest of the human race.

"---biggest blizzard since the winter of 1957, our weather service is telling us, even worse than the one in 2001, and I, for one, don't have any trouble believing it. That stuff is really coming down out there, Andy."

Rey smiled as she heard Roger Stott's beautiful modulated baritone voice on the air. He could make even the most horrific of weather sound sexy. She'd dated him for a couple of weeks on the basic of his voice alone, before all the problems with Toby drove him away. Just one man in a long line of potential suitors who couldn't face what she had to deal with.

"And now for some international news. UN peacekeeping forces Sierra Leone have reported that a group of U.S mercenaries massacred a village of women and children made off with a fortune of blood diamonds. The head of the group is in a UN prison awaiting extradition. UN spokeswoman, Jyn Erso said that the men worked for a U.S security contracting based in North Carolina called---"

The radio clicked off. Rey looked over in surprise at her passenger. His dark eyes met hers. "Weather's too severe for bad news."

And how. Rey was battling the wind buffeting her small car, trying desperately to hold the road without sliding off of it. She clutched the steering wheels with white knuckles, bending forward to peer through the windshield. She could barely see the edge of the road and was driving more by instinct and memory than by sight. This was awful.

She was crawling along at ten miles an hour. At this speed, they wouldn't get home for at least an hour. Rey pressed her foot down on the accelerator. It happened all at once.

Too late, Rey felt the deadly absence of grip in the road. An instant later, a sharp sound shot above the noise of the howling wind. Instantly, the car careened wildly as Rey lost full control, spinning dangerously to the left. Panicked, she braked hard, and the car spun horribly, completely out of control. A dark shape suddenly loomed, two glowing lights visible high up off the ground like the eyes of a giant predator. A desperate squeal of brakes and a blast of horn as deep and as loud as a foghorn.....

It took Rey a full second to realize that she was about to ram head-on into a massive truck. "Oh my God!" she screamed, as they slid on the black ice, right into the path of the dark, massive oncoming shape.

"Let go of the wheel and brace yourself," a deep, calm voice said.

Two strong brown hands then gripped the wheel, turning the car into the slide, and Kylo's left leg reached over hers as he gently tapped the brakes in a slow, regular cadence, shifting down the gears.

The slide slowed, became controlled once more, not that awful, sickening spinning horror. The car made a complete 360-degree turn. Kylo kept it moving left until they came to a complete stop an inch from a lamppost on the left shoulder of the road. A second later, the massive trucked barreled by, horn blaring angrily. The small car rocked with the wind displacement.

* * *

It happened so quickly. One second she was battling with the wind and snow and the next they were in free fall. The adrenaline shock a near freak accident raced burning through her system. If Kylo hadn't taken hold of the wheel, they'd have died in a crush of steel, in a mangle of broken bones and blood. They'd been a second away from dying.

She hand her hands to her mouth, covering a scream that wanted to break out. The tickle of bitter bile trickled up her throat, and she swallowed, hoping and praying that she wouldn't vomit.

Rey was shaking so hard she felt she would fall apart, the vision of the front of the truck bearing down on them still fresh in her eyes. She was gulping in air frantically, throat tight with panic. Her seat belt was unlatched, massive arms pulled her to a broad, muscular chest. Oh God, strength and safety.

She dived into him, huddling, trembling, arms tightly wound around his neck, breathing in panicked spurts, until the worst of the shaking had finally died down.

A big hand held the back of her head, almost covering it. Rey's face was buried into his neck, the stubble along his jawbone scratching her forehead. Her nose was right against the pulse in his neck, beating steadily and slowly, like a metronome, in contrast to her own trip-hammering one. There was the minty scent of snow, a pleasant musky odor that must have been him and, oddly, the smell of leather.

His black hair had come loose in the wind and flowed around her face, surprisingly very soft. There was nothing soft about the body she held herself against, though.

It was like embracing hard steel. He'd pulled her tightly against himself as if he could absorb her wild trembling. 

"It's okay," he murmured. She could feel the vibrations of his deep voice. "Nothing happened, it's okay."

It wasn't okay, not by a long shot. This was exactly how her parents had died--a bad snowstorm, black ice, a truck plowing into their car. A mangle of flesh and steel so horrendous it had taken the highway patrol nearly six hours with the Jaws of Life to get their bodies out. There had barely been enough of her father to bury. 

Rey had woken up more nights than she could count in a sweat, imaging her parents' last seconds if life. The terror as they saw the truck looming suddenly out of the snow, her heart-sickening realization that it was too late. 

Her father had been impaled on the steering wheel, both of his legs sheared off at the thighs. Her mother had lived for almost two weeks, in a coma. And Toby, poor Toby. Sweet, gentle, Toby. Condemned to live for the next six years of his life in a wheelchair, in constant pain, only to die before he reached his twentieth birthday. She saw that in her dreams, lived it, night after night after night.

And in her nightmares was the constant presence of Death, coming to take her too, as it had taken the rest of her family. She couldn't hope to cheat him forever.

This had the dark, metallic taste of her nightmares, only now it was real. Rey dug deep for control, and finally found it, eased away from him. 

"What was that?" Her voice was high-pitched and breathless.

She looked up into Kylo's face, dark and intent. The only sign of stress was white lines of tension pinching his nostrils. He was being brave, so should she. She drew in a shuddering breath and tried to keep her voice level.

"What happened to the car?"

"The tire blew," he answered grimly. "Front left from the sound of it."

Oh God, no. He tires were old and bald. Rey had been putting off buying new tires, hoping to hand on for at least another month, knowing that it was foolish and knowing that she had no other choice. She'd nearly killed them because she couldn't afford new tires.

And now of them was flat. It was just too much. Changing a tire in this weather. How on earth did you change a tire in a _blizzard?_

"Do you have a spare and a jack?" he asked.

"Yes." The spare was as old as the other tires, but she did have one, and a jack. Considering the condition of everything else in her life, it was probably rusted and would snap in two in this bitter cold. It was so tempting just to put her forehead down on the steering wheel and weep out her rage and frustration, but as emotionally satisfying as it would be, it wouldn't get them home any faster.

A vicious blast of wind rocked the car, and Rey clutched Kylo's jacket for balance. Dear God, they couldn't stay here while she dithered---they'd free to death. Rey turned in her eat and put her hand on the door handle, hoping her hands would stop shaking soon.

"What do you think you're doing?" That deep voice was harsh.

Rey looked over her shoulder in surprise. His brow was furrowed, and he was frowning at her, the skin stretched tautly over his high cheekbones.

"Ah...." Well, what did he think she was doing? They couldn't stay here fir a moment longer than necessary. "Getting out to change the tire. We need to get home soon before the weather get even worse. In a little while we won't even be able to drive in the streets."

Night had fallen. The glow from the streetlights couldn't penetrate the snow, and it was almost completely dark in the car. All she could see of him was the whites of his eyes and his white teeth. He touched her arm, briefly.

"Pope the trunk and stay in here. Don't open your door, not even for a second."

There wasn't any time to protest. The passenger-side door opened briefly, and he slipped out. In that second that the door was open, a cold gust of wind blew a snow flurry into the bar, sucking out all of the heat. Rey opened the trunk and heard metal clanging in the back.

A second later, he was at her front left fender, jacking the car up, working almost blind. Every once in a while, the fierce wind would part the curtain of snow, and the could see him, large and dark and intent, kneeling by the fender. 

She switched on the overhead light, hoping it could help in some small degree, though she doubted it. It probably comforted her more than helped him.

Soon than she could have imagined possible, he was knocking at her window. He bent to put his mouth close to the glass. "Do you want me to drive?" he shouted, his deep voice carrying above the howl of the wind. 

Oh, God, _yes! Yes, yes, yes!_

The hell with politically correct. The hell with duty. The thought of driving in this weather over black ice with her bald tires made her break out in a cold sweat. It was another accident just waiting to happen. Rey met his eyes through the glass and nodded.

"Scoot over and buckle up." His hands were cupped around his mouth, but even so, his words barely carried.

He wasn't going to make her get out and circle the car. Bless him. Rey managed to make it over to the passenger seat without breaking her hip on the stick shift. Kylo waited until she was in the seat and pulling the seat belt over her chest before opening the door. He could barely fit his long legs in the footwell and had to ratchet his seat back to it's fullest extent, brining it even with hers. 

He started the engine, letting it warm up. Rey turned to him, a large dark shadow in the darkness.

"That was really quick. It would have taken me over an hour in this weather, if I'd even be able to manage it at all."

He looked over at her. One corner of his mouth in a half smile, just a quick flash of white teeth. "I've changed a lot of tires under enemy fire in my time. You learn to be fast."

"I'll just bet you do. Listen---" Rey breathed deeply. She owed him an apology. "I want to thank you for changing the tire. That was my responsibility-- and oh, goodness, you're hurt!" Something dark and liquid gleamed on his right hands. "Heavens, first you change my tire for me, then my car bites the hands that it feeds. I'm so sorry."

She fumbled in the glove compartment and came out with a handful of tissues, which she held against his hand. The tissue immediately turned red. He'd gashed his hand badly. She changed tissues several times.

"Hold that against you hand for about five minutes until the bleeding stops. You might need stiches, that's a pretty nasty cut. We can stop at the emergency room of the hospital on the way."

"No." The deep voice was gentle as he covered her hand with his. 

She'd take her gloves off to drive and felt a jolt as his large, rough hands covered hers. His hand was hot, radiating heat not only to her but to the rest of her body. It was electric, the feel of his skin against hers. His grip on her hand was light, but the effect of it was enormous.

Heat zinged through her, a sharp contrast to the cold, to the panic she'd felt. She'd been frozen with panic, and his touch strength and heat through her system. 

He squeezed lightly, then lifted his hand away. "I heal fast, so don't worry about it. We need to get going now, or we won't get home at all."

"But your hand---"

"Is perfectly fine." Hw switched off the overhead light, put the car into gear and stepped on the accelerator. In a moment, they had crossed back over to the right side of the road. "Don't worry about my hand. You just direct me to your house. We need to get there as quickly as possible. Where do I turn?"

The did heal quickly. The deep gash had almost stopped bleeding. Rey peered out of the window uncertainly, though visibility was nearly zero at this point. It was impossible to tell where the intersections were. The only way to find out would be by crashing into a car.

"Keep straight down this road for three-quarters of a mile, then turn right. I'll try to navigate for you."

"Okay," he said calmly. 

* * *

He was driving much faster than she had dared to. She would have said something---fast driving scared her---but he was clearly in total command of the car, and the more quickly they got home, the happier she'd be. 

She peered out of the window, trying to discern landmarks. It was haphazard at best. At times, a ferocious gust of wind lifted the snow curtain for just a second. She saw the benches outside the railing along Badlands Park, then the big Christmas Tree at the corner of Center Street, and Fife---then---

"Here," she said suddenly, relieved. "Turn right here."

He took the corner so smoothly, they might have been driving on a balmy summer evening. Rey counted off lampposts and started to relax. Another five minutes, ten tops, and they'd be come.

"The first left, the second right, and it's the fourth driveway on the right."

The car pulled to a stop right in front of the garage. Rey closed her eyes and breathed deeply for the first time since she'd gotten into the car. Home. She was finally home. Well, not quite yet. She stared ahead at the rusted garage door with sheer hatred.

Time yet for another apology. "I'm really sorry," she said contritely, digging in her purse for the keys, hands still shaking. "The remote doesn't work anymore. The door has to be opened manually. I'll do it."

"No." He reached over and took the keys from her hand. "Don't get out. I'll take care of it."

Her boiler was temperamental, but the garage door was utterly reliable. You could _count_ on it not working. It took her muscle and time and many a chipped nail to turn the key in the rusty and lock the door. 

"Are you sure? I can--"

Again, that touch from his big hand. Heat and reassurance, the punch of sensual awareness, gone when he lifted his hand. Again his touch, the cold and the aftermath of panic rushed back in.

"Believe me, I'm sure."

Lit by the headlights, she watched him bend and lift the door as if it were brand-new, freshly oiled and weightless. A second later, they were safely in the garage. Home. For real, now. Rey got out of the car and had to order her knees to stiffen. Her legs were shaking.

All of her shaking still from the near accident, a deep almost uncomfortable tremor. The keys was rattling in her hand. She had to clench her fist closed to stop the noise. 

"Thank you," she said again to the big man, over the roof of the car. She met her eyes, dark and inscrutable. "I owe you---"

He held up a huge hand and shook his head. "Please, don't. Let's just get inside." He picked up his bags and her briefcase. "Lead the way. I'll follow you."

Rey opened the door to the house, fingers crossed, tense, expecting the worst. Thank God, the worst hadn't happened. Yet. The air was not quite freezing, there was a low hum from somewhere under her feet and she could relax a little. The boiler hadn't gone off today. She kept it on a minimum setting so that the pipes wouldn't freeze, which they did regularly when the boiler went on the blink.

But today the gods of heating were smiling down at her, as well they should, considering the number of times they'd pulled on her last week.

The temperature was uncomfortably cool, but as long as the boiler was working, it was okay. She'd turn the thermostat up, and in half an hour the whole house would be warm. Her heating bills were atrocious, but heating was not something she was prepared to skim on.

Not, certainly, with a new boarder. And definitely not in the middle of a blizzard, either. She led Kylo through the mudroom into the big, two-story atrium. Designed by a disciple of Frank Lloyd Wright, every room of Jakku Manor was light, spacious, perfect proportioned.

The atrium was simply spectacular. An old friend of the family had once said that Jakku Manor was like a beautiful woman, and the atrium was her face. When her parents had been alive, there had been two Winslow Homers, a Ming vase, a Murano chandelier and an immense antique Baluchi carpet in the atrium. All long gone.

The only thing left was the airiness and grace of the room, with it's black-and-white-marble flooring, arches leading to the library, the living room and her study and the big, graceful, winding maple staircase leading to the bedrooms on the second floor.

Through all the tough years gone by, through Toby's long painful decline and death, through all the sadness and hardship, entering Jakku Manor never failed to lift her spirits.

Jakku Manor was alive to her, and was in many ways the last family member left to her. She'd fought ferociously to keep it, even when everyone---the family lawyer who'd had to tell her that there was no money left in the bank, Jenna, her best friend, who thought she was nuts to stick to Jakku Manors, Dameron, who quickly grew annoyed that had to pinch pennies and eventually dumped her---everyone said to sell.

Rey would have sold Jakku Manor only to save Toby's life, but he died before it even became necessary. And now---well, now Jakku Manor was her only connection with her family and her only solace.

To tell it would be to deny the people she'd loved so much. Selling was unthinkable. As long as she had breath in her body, Jakku Manor would be hers. Cost what it might.

She watched Kylo Ren as he took in his surroundings. People reacted in different ways to the mansion. Some people's jaws dropped. Some where blasé. Some didn't even understand how beautiful it was and only saw a big house that needed painting and repair work and new furniture.

It was a litmus test. His reaction was perfect. He stood in silence for a minute, dark eyes taking in all the architectural details, then he turned around to her. "What a beautiful place you have. Thank you for accepting me as your boarder."

Yes, perfect. Rey smiled up at him. "I hope you'll be very comfortable here. The double room is on the third floor, under the eaves. I'll show you the way."

He shook his head. "Please, don't up two flights of stairs for my sake. Tell me how to get there, and I'll be fine."

Oh, God. What a relief. The worst of the trebling was over, but her legs were still shaking.

"Go up the main staircase, turn right and you'll find another staircase at the end of the hallway that will take you up to your room. It has an en suite bathroom that's yours alone. The sheets are clean, and you'll find clean towels in the big white cabinet in the bathroom. You should have enough hot water for a shower. Dinner's at seventy-thirty."

"Thank you." He inclined his head. "I'll be down at seven thirty," he said, then turned and took the stairs two at a time, moving fast.

Rey watched his board back until he disappeared, hoping she'd still done the right thing, knowing that she'd had no choice.


	4. Chapter 4

The instructions, of course, hadn't been necessary. Kylo knew his way up to the big airy room at the very top of the house. He stood outside the door, his hand on the handle, and took in a big breath, still amazed that he was here. With her.

The house was as beautiful as in his memories, only bare and adorned. Before, there had been paintings on the walls, big pieces of old furniture, soft rugs, elaborate vases. As a boy, he'd had no idea valuable they could be. All he knew was that he'd never seen rooms as full of beautiful things as Rey's home. He was no expert, but he'd learned a lot over the years.

Enough to know that there had been a fortune in paintings, rugs, sculptures, antiques. Most of which were now gone.

It didn't make any difference. The mansion was still gorgeous, like a beautiful woman without makeup. Still, it pained his heart to think of Rey selling off her inheritance, piece by piece. It must have hurt.

The room under the eaves was exactly the same as it had been twelve years ago, only shabbier and in a serious need of a coat of paint. The furniture was the same, too, pleasant but unexceptional. Obviously, nothing in this room had been valuable enough to sell off. The room held a big four-poster bed with a huge green-and-white quilt, an armchair in need of reupholstering, a chest of drawers and a small desk on which sat a TV and a radio.

More than enough to make for comfortable living, particularly for a man used to roughing it. He'd do just fine here, until he moved in Rey's bedroom, which be vowed would be just as soon as humanly possible. 

The mechanics of that---getting from being a boarder to a lover---was something he'd have to work on. But he was pretty good at strategy. 

Sooner or later, though, it was going to happen. She was single, that much was clear, even though there was probably a boyfriend in the background. How could there not be? It was unthinkable that any man with a beating pulse and working equipment could be in the same room as Rey and not want her.

The bathroom was the same as before, too. Large, with white fixtures and cream-and-green tiles on the walls. The sink was cracked, and a few wall tiles were missing, but for someone who'd been on a shit-burning detail in Iraq, and who'd dug his own latrines in Afghanistan, it was super-luxurious. As promised, there was a stack of white towels in a big white wooden cabinet.

The towels were clean, but old and threadbare. Who the hell cared? In a second, his dirty, rumpled clothes were on the floor, and he was under the shower.

The shower stall equipped with shampoo and soap in a holder. The water was only lukewarm, but it still felt good as he lathered up. Both the soap and the shampoo were rose-scented. The smell went straight to the primitive part of his brain that associated roses with Rey.

Damn! It was precisely the part of his brain that was connected to his cock, and had been for the last twelve years. Roses equaled Rey equaled a hard-on. Kylo took his time washing up, getting rid of more than the dirt and sweat of a forty-eight hour trip back from Africa. He was washing more than the grime of travel off--he was washing his old life out.

For twelve long years, he'd been the Colonel's to command. The man who'd found a starving, half-mad mongrel behind a trash can and taken him in had, had his undying loyalty. 

Colonel Luke Skywalker, a man of honor, the father of his heart. If the Colonel hadn't gotten ill and died, Kylo wouldn't be here. He'd still be helping the Colonel run ENP Security. He'd never allowed himself more than the vaguest kinds of daydreams of an alternative life while the Colonel was alive.

He'd been as loyal to him as any feudal knight to his king. But now, in the space of a week, Kylo had buried his father, sold the company and the house and shut down the rogue Sierra Leone mission. All the ties with his old lie were severed. It was all over. He was starting a new life, right here in Rey's shower, smelling of roses.

Now his skin smelled like hers, though it sure as hell didn't _feel_ like hers. Hers was so pale, so smooth. Sooth and incredibly soft to the touch, too.

Kylo remembered evert second she'd spent in his arms in the car. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to tilt her head back and kiss her. He'd had to clench his teeth, hard, because what he'd wanted more than his next breath was to open her mouth with his and plunge inside. Her mouth was made for kissing, soft and pink, a little honey trap he'd wanted to fall into so badly.

Only a lifetime of self-discipline had stopped him. They'd been in a real danger out there, and not just from the truck. All her tires were basically shot and if another shot blew, with no other spare, they'd have been done for. There was no way they could have lasted out the blizzard in the car. 

So he'd been a real good boy and held her for comfort, just long enough to let her regain control of herself.

She'd trembled in his arms. His job had been to hold her until the worst of the trembling stopped, then get them both to a warm place as soon as possible. His imagination had run riot. In his head, he got rid of his jacket, sweater, jeans, shorts, boots. Her thick coat, sweater, bra, panties and stockings. In his head they were naked---not in a chilly car in the middle of a blizzard, but on a sunny deserted beach.

A place where they had all the time in the world for him to explore her body, touch all that luscious rosy ivory skin. Run his mouth along that long, pale neck, down to the breasts he'd seen outlined by the sweater.

The adrenaline of the close encounter with the dead had pooled in his cock, and he'd been as hard as a club. He'd wanted to mount her, enter her, fuck her, love her, more than he wanted his very next breath. It was an enticing thought, but dangerous as hell.

But they weren't on a sunny beach, they were in real danger of freezing to death. So he'd dropped a kiss to the top of her head so light she couldn't feel it, then let her go, to concentrate on getting them to Jakku Manor safely.

But now.....now that he was in a warm, wet cabin, that smelled of Rey, his mind went wild. He imagined licking his tongue into that beautiful mouth, his nose up against her skin, the scent of roses filing his head. Biting her lips, urging her closer, closer still. Sliding his hand along that long, white neck of hers. Kylo looked down at himself and groaned at his enormous painful boner, red and swollen, hard as a spike.

Harder than in the car. He knew why he had a hard-on that wouldn't quit. Part of was that he hadn't had sex in nearly six months. 

Afghanistan was as close to a no-sex zone as had ever existed on earth. After Afghanistan he'd spent the past month at his father's bedside, then in Africa, cleaning up after Armitage Hux. True, six months was a long time for him to go without sex, but he'd done it before, on long missions.

Part of it was the male reaction to surviving danger. Or his, anyway. It happened every time he survived a fire-fight. His cock went up in celebration of life and thanksgiving that he wasn't six feet under.

When he could, after combat, Kylo went out hunting for a woman for relief, and when he couldn't, his fist worked just fine. He and Rey had been in as much danger as if they'd been on a mission in downtown Bagdad. 

He hadn't said anything---Rey had been massively freaked out as it was----but they'd nearly died out there on the road. While fighting for the wheel of her car, the part of his mind was always calm and thinking ahead to the next step no matter what the emergency had appreciated the irony. Kylo had survived the worst that life could throw at him, time and again.

He'd cheated death a thousand times while waiting for Rey. Being crushed beneath the wheels of a truck half an hour after finding her again would definitely come under the category of "shit happens."

But these reasons weren't really why he had such a boner. What had set him off was being in the same house as Rey, having talked to her, touched her, held her in his arms---that's what had his cock swollen and weeping. After so many years in which she'd haunted his dreams, he was finally with her, and it was scary as hell. _Do. Not. Fuck. It Up_ , he told himself.

He couldn't count the nights lying on a cold hard cot when her face swarm before him. At first, he'd been ashamed to jerk off thinking of her, but it turned out that no matter how many women he had, she was the only one who could turn him on simply by thinking of her.

Kylo liked women. He liked the way they smelled, the softness of their skin, their voices. He also liked sex, too. And he was courteous to all of his sex partners, even if it was only a one-night stand, which most of his previous encounters were.

A little foreplay, in for a while, and then out, get up and go. Oh, he had stamina, that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that he couldn't remember much about the woman after walking out of the door. He remembered everything about Rey, though. Everything. How she looked with her hair in a ponytail, or loose around her shoulders. He remembered ever item of clothing he'd ever seen her in and every facial expression she'd ever had. He remembered every single word she'd ever said to him.

It was all seared into his mind, and it would probably take a shot to the head just to get rid of it all. So naturally, when he reached for his cock to unload some stress, a generic woman, say, one head, two tits, four limbs, and a pussy wouldn't do the trick. 

Rey floated into his head in those moments and he'd long ago given up the fight to keep her out of his mind, as well as his heart. 

Now there was something more, something unexpected. Turned out the Rey he'd mooned over for twelve long years was long gone, vanished with the years that had flown by. The once beautiful girl had been replaced by an even more beautiful woman, mature and stunning, intelligent and classy, a woman who wore sadness like a shroud, utterly irresistible. 

The girl had been very pretty, like a million other upper-class girls, with a sunny smile showing off ten thousand dollars of orthodontics, wearing a thousand dollars' worth of clothes.

She bathed regularly and had someone to wash and iron her clothes for her. Lots of girls in those conditions looked rather pretty. 

The beautiful woman she'd turned into, though, knocked the very breath right out of him. She was like some sad princess longing for her lost kingdom and her lost prince. Kylo remembered every second she'd been in his arms as he reached down for himself, gave one, long experimental stroke. 

The hard-on had to go, right now. There was no way he could go down to diner in this condition, she'd kick him right out. _Please God_ , he thought, _let me through the evening without embarrassing myself, that's all I ask of you._

To be really sure that his dick would stay down, he should park himself in the shower under the cold water and jerk off a couple of times, just to get rid of the fierce, itchy arousal that he felt. His skin prickled with the desire to touch her again, not only for comfort this time and not dressed for cold weather with layers of clothes between his skin and hers.

No, he wanted to touch her and see whether he could make that smooth ivory skin turn pink with molten hot desire. He wanted to watch it happen, watch the flush cover her breasts, while he kissed and sucked on them. He wanted to touch her sex, feel himself making her wet, ready for him.

Rey was downstairs right now. Waiting for him. She wasn't a memory, a photograph, an imagine inside of his head. She was real. She was a flesh-and-blood woman, more beautiful even than in his dreams and she was downstairs cooking a meal for him. He'd see her every day, as much as he wanted. 

It was impossible to think that he wouldn't get her into his bed. His cock swelled even more just at the thought.

His fists was working hard now, pumping, as the images of a naked Rey spread out on a bed just for him filled his head. He wanted to know what sort of sounds she made when she was turned on, feel her heels and nails digging into his back, feel her cunt pulling at him as he stroke deep inside her.....

* * *

It was all so much more intense now that he'd seen her again, felt her, smelled her. Now that he had so much more sensory input as he imagined himself fucking her, hard. For hours on end. Loving her as she should be loved. 

If she were right right now, he'd take her in the shower, kissing her all over first in the steamy heat, making her ready. Entering her with his fingers first, oh so gently. 

He was big, and she had to be ready for him. He wanted her wet and soft and open for him. When his hand told him she was ready, he'd lift her against the tiles, hold her legs apart, start pushing inside her....

Sometimes it took Kylo a very long time to climax but he'd been semi-aroused since he'd first seen her back at the bookshop, and when he imagined entering her, parting her tissues with his cock, he groaned. The image filled his head with unbearable heat---the two of them in the rose-scented cabin under the pounding water as he pounded into her over and over and over again. He could see them, could almost feel her softness against him, and it set him off.

Red-hot needled pricked down his spine, and he start spurting violently, hips-jerking in time with his fist. He came and came, leaning one-handed against the shower stall, until his knees were weak and it felt like he'd emptied himself of every ounce of moisture in his body. 

He watched himself, the red, hugely swollen head of his cock emerging from his fist, coming in huge spurts against the class cabin, disappearing instantly in the water streaming down the sides.

His lungs ached, his skin felt too tight, his head was a balloon that would burst at any given moment. He needed her....badly.

For a moment, the climax had wiped out all thoughts of his mind as he was reduced to his animal senses. After cumming, he was usually more relaxed and refreshed---a little like going for a good, sweaty run. Sex was nice physical exercise with a nice little playoff at the very end. Nothing like this. This felt more like dying---as if everything he was came shooting out of his cock, leaving him weak and disoriented.

As strong as the orgasm was, though, it still wasn't quite enough. When Kylo's knees could support him again and he walked out of the shower stall, he was still semi-erect, still wanting her. 

Every cell in his body was turned on, damn it, attuned to the beautiful young woman downstairs. He looked down at himself in disgust, big flag waving at half-mast.

His dick was so sensitized, the cooler air of the bathroom outside the shower stall felt icy and cold on his skin. It missed the warmth, the fantasy that his fist was Rey's cunt. At that thought, his dick went straight back up into full erection. _Fuck!_

How the hell could he go downstairs in this condition? Well, only one thing to do--wear a chastity belt. Or his tightest black jeans, which was basically the same thing. A hard-on would have no place to go in those jeans, he knew from a painful past experience. If he started swelling, his cock would meet stiff denim, and the pain would make it go down again.

That was the plan, anyway. He just hoped it would work. He couldn't stay in the shower forever, jerking off until there was nothing left in him. 

It would take all night and probably all day tomorrow. Kylo unlocked the padlock on his bag and dumped all his clothes out. There weren't many clothes because he'd had to travel light. The only clean clothes he had were a pair of sweats, the black jeans and a black turtle-neck sweater. He hadn't even thought to pack an extra pair of shoes, so the boots would have to do.

Come Monday, he'd buy some new clothes. He dumped the last of the items in the bag on the bed. Fifty-thousand dollars in ten bricks of $5,000 each. His toolkit. Another Glock with five magazines of ammo, and a cloth bag.

Luckily, he still had his security pass, so he'd been able to check his weapons at the airport. He took a small screwdriver out of the toolkit and checked the baseboard until the found the air-vent close to the chest of drawers. Bending down, he checked it out. Tiny flakes of rust spotted the four screws holding the vent grate to the metal plate in the wall.

The grate hadn't been removed for years to judge from the buildup of soot and rust. Unscrewing the vent took time and some serious muscle, but eventually he had the screws lined up on the floor and the grate removed.

He then checked his watch as he put the items from the bag far enough back in the vent so they wouldn't show even if you were looking for something.

He had no idea who clean the rooms, whether it was Rey or a cleaning lady, but he didn't want them stumbling onto the Glock, or the ammo, or--- _Jesus!_ \--the contents of the cloth bag! They should be safe enough in the steel tube. It would only be until Monday, anyways.

Monday he was going to open up a bank account, deposit the cash and the cashier's check for eight million dollars and register for a safe-deposit box for the contents of the cloth bag. He checked his watch again--7:25. He'd be right on time for dinner. One last thing. Crouching, he opened the cloth bag and emptied its contents onto the hardwood floor, the dull, irregular rocks rattling as they spilled out in a stream.

Kylo studied the jagged mound before him. Except for the odd glitter as the light caught in a natural facet, the rocks could have been mere pebbles from a riverbed. 

Instead, he was looking down at at least $20 million dollars in uncut diamonds. He knew he was looking at rocks that represented human suffering on an unimaginable scale. They'd been mined by slave labor---men and young boys who toiled under the intense tropical sun from first to last light on a cup of rice, immediately shot in the back of the head when they grew too weak to work.

An entire country was literally tearing itself apart because of dull rocks just like these---over eight thousand people were killed over the past year alone in Sierra Leone. Countless others had their hands, lips and ears chopped off by the drugged-up baby soldiers fighting in the Revolutionary Army.

Armitage Hux and his men of thugs had been willing to massacre an entire village of innocent women and children for them. No wonder they called them Blood Diamonds.

It was a miracle that no blood oozed from the rock-hard ruby red stones. But no---they were as neutral as they were inert---just rocks, for fuck's sake. Just rocks. Kylo looked down at the mound of people were willing to kill and to die and made a small noise of disgust before putting them back in the bag.

Twenty million dollars of pain and suffering and misery. Murder, rape, dismemberment---that's what the diamonds represented.

He's taken them simply because there was no one left in the village to give them to, and he'd have died himself rather than let Hux have them. Kylo put the bag behind the money, the Glock and the ammo, then carefully screwed the grate back onto it's plate, thinking how crazy people were willing to kill and die for a bag full of rocks.

He rose and made his way swiftly down two flights of stairs toward something warm and living and beautiful. Something that had a firm hold on his heart. Something definitely worth killing and dying for. 


	5. Chapter 5

His name was Dopheld and he was Armitage Hux's new best friend. Dopheld Mitaka was Finnish, loved computers, American jazz, missed his fiancé Maja back in Helsinki and hated Africa and everything that was connected to it. Best of all, he was dark-headed, five-ten and weighed about 170 pounds, _just like me_ , Hux thought in satisfaction.

Dopheld always stopped by to see him in the small detentions center of the UNOMSIL when he got off guard duty at 1700 hours. At 1703, Hux could count on good old Dopheld stopping by, regular as clockwork.

The detention center itself was a joke. Hux could have escaped at any time over the past three days. His grandmother could have escaped using her dentures and a hairpin. The UN peacekeeping force was not in the prisoners business, and it showed.

Hux needed more than a way to break out of the detention center--he needed to get out of the encampment and out of Sierra Leone if he wanted his diamonds back. Good old Dopheld was his ticket out.

It was dark inside the detention center. Electricity was intermittent the air-conditioning worked sporadically, so the shutters and the door were kept closed against the blistering heat of the tropical sun, intense even in December. Hux made sure the lights were turned off during the day, even when the shutters kept the room in semidarkness. 

Dopheld had to be used to a darkened room. Hux checked his watch. The luminescent dial showed 1700 hours, on the dot.

Dopheld would be punctual. Hux had studied him the way an entomologist studied bugs. He knew how Dopheld reacted to stimuli and he had his plan worked out down to the finest detail. The Army had trained him well. _17:01._

Hux jumped up and down to make sure nothing rattled or clinked and patted himself down. There would be a moment when he would have to move fast and silently. More than one soldier had died because a knife clinked against a belt buckle and gave away a position.

He checked his pockets, his boots and flexed his arms. He'd been cooped up for three whole days and his muscles were stiff. He was used to hard workouts, and confinements didn't suit him.

When Hux finally caught up with Kylo Ren, he was not only going to get his diamonds back, but he'd make the fucker very, very sorry he'd interfered, before blasting his fucking head off. Hux had spent a couple of pleasant hours last night I imagining Kylo tied down to a chair while he used his knife. 

Hux was very good with a knife.

_17:02_

He checked over his plan again, ran through it for the thousandth time. About 90 percent of good soldiering was planning and preparation. The plan was good, and he was prepared. He turned his back to the door.

17:03

The door opened wide, and Dopheld walked in, good Finnish solider from his head down to his toes. His fatigues were clean and freshly pressed. The baby blue UN helmet that was such an attraction, practically, a beacon, to snipers the world over firmly on his heads, boots spit-shined.

"Hello, Mr. Hux," Dopheld said. His English was rather excellent. "How are you today?"

The light from the open door filled the room. Since his back to the door, Dopheld's eyes were able to accommodate quickly to the light pouring into from behind his back. Going from darkness to tropical light could blind man for minutes.

"Hi, Dopheld. Close that door, will you?"

"Certainly." Dopheld heard the snick of the door closing and turned around. By now, Dopheld had become used to what he considered Dopheld's fetish for darkness. Floor-to-ceiling bars divided the shack in half. 

Hux considered his cell a personal affront. The bars were loosely planted in the wooden planks and fixed by screws to the stucco ceiling. The lock was a complete joke---it would fall apart if you blew on it too hard. How the fuck did they think a cell like that could hold a man like him? The problem wasn't getting out, the problem was what to do afterwards.

They were about twenty miles from the Sele River. Even if he could make it through the jungle to the river, he'd need to steal a boat and motor his way down to Freetown. It would take three days, at least. Everyone knew there was only one place to escape to, and that was Freetown.

By the time he made it to the capital, Freetown and, worse, Lungi Airport would be crawling with UN troops with his photograph in their hands, itching to capture the American renegade. 

So he needed to make sure that no one would be looking for him. He needed a body that looked like Armitage Hux they could bury. 

Dopheld was sympathetic to him, he'd made that very clear. Dopheld loved American and his tidy Finnish soul had been horrified at what he'd seen in his two-year tour of duty in central Africa. "Hell on earth," he called it.

Dopheld had made it plain more than once that he thought it a ridiculous waste of time and effort to keep Dopheld in detention. He was right, of course. 

This part of the world had been on a rampage for fifteen years, tribe against tribe, with brutally ferocious massacres on a daily basis. On the Revolutionary Army scale, what Hux had done was the equivalent of a slap to the face. So Dopheld was definitely on his side. Hix had even thought about bribing him to travel documents.

Might have worked, but he needed something else from Dopheld, besides documents. His body. Pity, because he liked the guy. But what can you do?

"Merry Christmas, Dopheld." Dopheld head swiveled to follow the source of his voice. Hux sat on his cot, legs spread, forearms on knees, hands clasped. Utterly, totally nonthreatening.

Dopheld's eyes would slowly be adjusting to the dark shed after the bright tropical light outside. Hux's body was a still statue slowly taking shape, like a film in the developing gun.

"Merry Christmas, Armitage. I came to say good-bye." Dopheld walked toward Hux and wrapped his hands around the bars. 

Hux let his gusty sigh fill the room. He lifted his head Dopheld would be able to make out his movements by now. "Man, on man, I'm really going to miss you. Miss our talks. I'm just happy that you'll be out of this shithole and back with Maja."

"Oh, yeah." Predictably, Dopheld's face ceased in a smile at the mention of his girlfriend. Hux was slated to leave this afternoon for a two-month rotation back to Finland. He hadn't even tried to hide how glad he'd be to get out of Africa and back to his computer, snow and Maja, probably in that order.

Dopheld pulled up a stool and pulled out a little magnetized travel chess set. They had spent the past three days playing through through the bars. Hux had been letting win two games out of three. 

"Hey," Hux said, putting a shy, abashed expression. "You've been really good to me, here, you know?" He put a little folksiness into his voice, just two days chewing the fat on a lazy afternoon. "And I was thinking, what with you going back home for a while and all, that I'd like to give you something. I really owe you, man. I have something for you to give Maja. You know, as a Christmas present. I bet you didn't get anything for her."

Bingo. Dopheld hung his head. There wasn't much but jungle within a hundred-mile radius. Jungle and soldiers and blood and misery. Nothing a Finnish woman would want.

Hux stood and walked toward the bars, crooking his finger to bring Dopheld closer. Curious, Dopheld stood against the bars. Though they were separated by the bars, they were close enough to feel each other's breath. 

"I've got something real special for Maja. Something she'll like....a lot." He allowed himself a smile. "Something sparkly. Something all women like." He shrugged and winked, a man to man. "Won't do me much good in here. You might as well get some use out of it, you know what I mean?"

Dopheld nodded eagerly. Hux knew that everyone in the UNOMSIL encampment assumed he had the diamonds. Or rather, since he'd been finished, knew where the diamonds were. If only. It was such a fucking shame. Enough money to keep him happy for the rest of his life, wherever he wanted to settle down.

Away from Africa, away from Afghanistan and Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan and all the fucking 'Stans. Away from Iraq, away from all the shithole places with kids blowing themselves up for the pleasures of gutting you while they did it and women who hid grenades under their burqas and men willing to shoot you for your fillings. No more.

No more twelve-year-old's high on ganja or palm wine carting around AK-47s they could barely lift, with access to unlimited ammo and just itching to bag a white man. No more roadside IEDs, no more leeches or scorpions or lice, no more MRE's, no more rough sleeping.

He'd earned that money. It was fucking his. He'd been dreaming of a big hit for years, and when he'd heard the rumors of the village whose men had all gone off to war and with millions of dollars in conflict diamonds hidden in the ground, he'd instantly know that was IT.

His big chance. He'd never have to solider again, or ever have to work at anything, ever again.

Never take orders again, never do anything but what he damned well pleased. No more jungles, no more deserts. No more bivouacking in primitive encampments on stony ground. Hux planned on living in luxury for the rest of his natural life. Hux planned on living in luxury for the rest of his natural life. Buy a mansion somewhere nice, somewhere sunny, somewhere OUTCONS. 

In the Bahamas maybe. Or maybe Monte Carlo. Why not? Buy a big house with a pool and servants and lots and lots of women. Not that many beautiful women wanted to fuck a solider, but they as hell lined up ten deep to fuck rich men.

He could taste it, smell it, feel it, this new life of his. It was so close....so....so...close. 

And it was gone. All of his dreams for his future, a future he'd sweated and taken bullets for, wiped out in a second Kylo Ren.

Hux's fists clenched as he remembered in a white-hot rage that moment when his future was snatched away from him. He and his men had opened fire on the village, softening it up. 

A knife against the throat of the daughter of one of the women, and he had the location of the diamonds. He'd run into the hut, found the bag and was running toward his men, who were eliminating the villagers--no sense in leaving witnesses behind---when all of a sudden, four spaced shots rang out, followed by sudden silence.

A sniper, picking off of his men, one by one. In his scramble to get to safety, the bag slipped from Hux's fingers as he ran to the nearest hut, leaping over the dead bodies in the central clearing.

He slid into the opening and turned around, rifle to shoulder, and saw a big man disappear into the jungle with _his_ diamonds. 

He knew that it was useless trying to follow. If Kylo Ren didn't want to be found, he could disappear like smoke. Hux had spent the next few hours ransacking the village, turning over bodies, in the hope that there was another stash of diamonds, but by the time he'd come to the conclusion that there was nothing left, UN soldiers had surrounded the village and taken him into custody.

For a moment the heat of rage swept through him, wiping out every other thought except that of hunting down that fucker Kylo Ren, getting his diamonds back and killing Ren with a knife, taking a couple of days to do it.

None of this showed on his face, of course. He bent his head forward and dropped his voice to a murmur. "Come in here, Dopheld. And I'll give you something that will make Maja drop to her knees in gratitude." 

"Okay, Hux." Thought there was no one else in the hut, Dopheld dropped his voice, too. As if they were about to exchange confidences. 

Hux stood up and backed away slowly. "Come inside." His voice was still low. "I'll show you what I've got got for you. For her."

Dopheld didn't even hesitate. Hux knew Dopheld thought of him as someone much like himself. Nice white boy caught up in the craziness that was West Africa. Dopheld unlocked the cell door and walked inside, following Hux, who'd reached his cot and pulled something out from the hard mattress. 

A cloth bag with smooth round objects that rattled. Dopheld's excited breathing was loud in the darkened room.

Dopheld smile. "Maja's going to love these. Come over and look." Hux reached over the cot and suddenly opened the shutters, flooding he room with harsh light. Dopheld was temporarily blinded and would remain blind for a minute and a half. More than enough time.

Hux had closed his eyes and turned his back to the window, and he could see just fine. 

His hand dropped to his boot, where he quickly and quietly pulled out a long thing dagger with a folding handle the UN troops hadn't even noticed. He'd been briskly frisked for arms before being shut up in the detention center, but no more mini-revolver or the garotte wire along the inside of his belt. The garotte was out of the question.

Hux needed Dopheld's clothes intact. A slow choking death would loosen his bowls and bladder. And a bullet wouldn't do---it would stain his uniform in blood.

There was only one way to do it. Hux dropped the bag into Dopheld's hands. The bag opened under Hux's eager, fumbling fingers. It took him a few seconds to realize that he held not diamonds but stones.

His head lifted. "What---" he began. It was last word on this earth.

Hux hooked his left arm around Dopheld's chest and with his right slipped the stiletto he kept as sharp as scalpel straight into the brain stem. It immediately stopped all bodily functions. Dopheld went from sentiment being to stone in a tenth of a second.

He slumped into Hux's arms, an instant corpse. Hux worked fast. In five minutes exchanged clothes and shoes. Dopheld kept his passport and airline ticket on his ticket on his person at all times. He'd told Hux he had an unholy fear of the cleaning staff stealing them.

The UN peacekeeping mission had been too much for him. Well, good old Dopheld was getting out Africa, in a manner of speaking. Permanently. 

Hux hitched Dopheld up in a fireman's lift and made for the door. He opened it slightly and waited for a moment in which no one was visible. It was 17:20, close to dinnertime, and the encampment was deserted.

When Hux was sure that no one could see, he slipped out the door and made his way around the back. The detention center was backed onto the jungle. In the steamy heat, Hux made his way carefully, disappearing immediately into the dense foliage, leaving barely anything to track.

He was lucky. If he'd had to carry a man in high deserts of Afghanistan, the sand would have kept his footprints for weeks. In the jungle, his tracks would be covered within an hour. He walked until his instincts told him that he was beyond the natural patrol point and put Dopheld down. Hux looked at him, stretched out on his back.

He looked peaceful, as if he were taking a nap. _You should be thanking me, buddy,_ Hux thought. _I just gave you a great death. The very best, in fact._

It was the one thing soldiers feared above all else--a bad death. Long, lingering, painful. The RA rebels specialized in hacking deaths, where it takes a man maybe an hour to die after having his hands, then his arms, then his feet and finally his head chopped off.

Sometimes it took the child-soldiers, wielding axes half their size, ten tries to separate the head from the body. 

Hux had seen men taking hours of agony to die after having been gut-shot or having their insides ripped open by a land mine. Two employees of ENP had been hacked to death by a ragtag squadron of RA thugs. 

It was after looking down at their bodies that Hux vowed to get himself some real money and finally get out of the business. That was when he heard about the diamonds.

Dopheld had, had his own set of fears. Four UN peacekeepers---a Norwegian, a Pakistani, a Brazilian and a Brit--had been found tortured to death last month, their bodies having been dumped into the UN encampment during the night as a warning not to cross RA troops. The medical examiner said they'd been raped repeatedly "with something big and wooden," then skinned alive.

Dopheld had told this with a shudder, and Hux realized it was his worst fear. It would never happen to Dopheld, now. He'd gone out like a light being switched off.

One moment he was happy in the knowledge that he was going to give diamonds to Maja, then bam! Lights out! Lucky guy. Hux was going to have to mutilate the body, but Dopheld was already dead.

It wouldn't make any different to him. When a patrol finally found him, they had to think it was Hux's body, fallen into the hands of the RA. Hux looked down, studying the body. Hacking off limbs is harder than it looks, unless you have a tree stump and a big axe, which most of the assholes in the RA did. All Hux was his Kobun Tanto, but he kept it as sharp as a scalpel.

He'd dressed enough deer growing up in Arkansas to know to go about doing what he had to do. He bent, inserting the knife point between the tendons on the inside wrist, and quickly severed Dopheld's right hand. He picked it up and flung it far into the jungle.

He could hear the small thud as it fell. In five minutes, the second hand was severed and flung in the opposite direction, the un-clotted blood forming a red arc as it flew through the air. The hands would be eaten well before nightfall. Now came the rather distasteful part.

Hux bent down, knife point on the throat and in one quick, hard movement, slashed Dopheld open from sternum to pubic bone. There was very little bleeding, but Dopheld's bowels bulged out through the opening.

With several more slashes, the skin on Dopheld's face hung in tatters. The Revolutionary Army was known for its stoned thugs who loved torturing and mutilating their victims. There would be no doubt in anyone's mind what had happened.

The story if the diamonds was well-known. RA soldiers broke into the encampment, kidnapped Hux, tortured him for the diamonds, and left his body to rot in the jungle. While Dopheld left for Finland and Maja. Hux straightened and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

The predators of the jungle would come across the body as soon as he left. No matter when a UN patrol found the body, what would be left would be Hux's clothes, wallet, passport, ENP Security and very little else. With no hands and no face, the only thing that could identify Hux was DNA, which would have to be analyzed back in Paris, if anyone cared enough to want a positive ID.

By the time the DNA analysis results were back, Hux would be long gone, back in the States, tracking down Ren to get his diamonds back.

However, he knew just where that fucker Ren would go. Hux knew from the moment he set eyes on Ren, that he was trouble. He made it his business to find out his weak spots. The fucker didn't have any. He didn't drink, he didn't do dope and he couldn't be bought.

The only weakness Hux could find a woman. A girl. Ren kept a photograph and a press clipping about her, hidden in a secret compartment in his rucksack. Hux had managed to make photocopies, while Ren was away. He'd watched Ren take the photo out and stare at it, endlessly.

So he knew where that fuck was going. Back to that bitch he'd mooned over forever, the one he jacked off to when he thought no one would notice. Hux would find him, oh yeah. He'd find them both and the diamonds, too.

It certainly would be a real pleasure killing them both before he disappeared again, and this time, forever. 


	6. Chapter 6

_Oh my_ , Rey thought, watching through the wide arch as Kylo quickly descended the stairs and strode through the atrium into the dining room. There was a rare, very definitely feminine flutter in her chest. _Boy, does he clean up rather nicely._

Gone was the scruffy, unshaved look of a man who'd been traveling hard and rough. He'd washed his hair and tended to it most carefully. It gleamed an intense, shiny black.

He had in tight black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. Though the clothes were informal, they had the odd effect of looking elegant evening wear. The clothes also showcased his body, strong chest muscles and biceps showing under the sweater.

In the bookshop, it had been clear that Kylo Ren was a tall, strong man, but Rey had been too busy worrying about whether to accept him as a boarder and then about whether they'd actually make it home alive to dwell on his body. But now they were safely home, they hadn't died, the boiler hadn't died, and he didn't seem like a serial killer.

Now she could look her fill. In between setting the last of the tableware and lightning the candles, she watched him. 

She'd rarely seen such a perfect specimen of a man. It was something other than being buff. Buff was normal nowadays. Even Dameron was gym-fit. This was something beyond that--it was sheer male power, un-adultered, unadorned. 

His eyes met hers and held as he made his way quickly down the staircase and into the dining room. Some expression, one she couldn't pin down, passed over his face when he saw the dining table. Had she overdone it? She looked over the table, set with her best Villeroy & Boch tableware, which her parents had bought on their honeymoon in Paris thirty-two years ago.

She still had four unbroken Waterford crystal glasses and there still bits and pieces if the family silver. Enough, certainly, to set an elegant table for two. 

She'd been lightning the last of the candles when he stopped on the threshold. They looked at each other, utter silence in the room. What incredibly magnetic eyes he had. They held her own. His gaze was so compelling, she could scarcely look away....with an exclamation of pain, Rey blew out the match that singed her fingers.

It stung. She glanced down at the angry red spot on the index finger. In a second, he was by her side, a deep frown between his eyebrows. He picked her hand and examined it carefully. 

"It's nothing," she said, tugging at her hand to free it. It didn't work. He was holding her in a perfectly painless yet unbreakable grip. "Don't worry about it. I'll be fine, really."

How stupid, to burn her finger on a match while staring at a man. You'd think she'd never seen a man before, the way she'd been staring at him. A flush of embarrassment rose from deep inside her. 

She was cursed with the skin of a redhead, and she knew that her cheeks would be flushed and that the flush would extend down to her breasts. He was standing very close, close enough for her to smell him. He'd used the soap she left for all the guests, but _his_ smell--the one that had been imprinted on her brain, on her very nerve endings in the car---overrode the attar of roses.

Maybe it was the combination of such female and masculine scents blended together that made her feel slightly dizzy. 

For a moment she felt light-headed and would have swayed if he hadn't been holding on to her hand so tightly. "You've got such delicate skin. You wouldn't want that to blister." He reached past her and picked up an ice-cube from a water glass. "Here. Hold that against the burn for a few minutes." He held the cub against her finger and curled his hand around hers. 

He didn't step back, as she would have expected, but watched her in silence, his hand then found hers. Rey was aware of her heart beating, slow and hard, and of the incredible warmth of his hand.

She didn't know what to do. Of course, she should withdraw her hand from his, but somehow her muscles wouldn't obey, so she simply stood quietly, watching him. His irises were a dark, deep brown, almost indistinguishable from the pupils. 

A drop of melted water fell through her closed fist to plop onto the marble floor, sounding loud in the hush. It was as if that small splash awoke her from a deep slumber.

She took in a deep breath and flexed her fingers' under his. He opened his hand immediately, and she looked down. The ice had done the trick. The redness was almost all gone.

"Thanks," she murmured, stepping back. 

Stepping away from him was harder than it should have been, as if that big body exerted a gravity of its own, a small planet made of heart and bone and muscle. 

"You're welcome. Here." He dug into his jeans pocket and came away with a plain white envelope. "We should get this over with right away."

She held it, looking up at him. Though he wasn't in any way handsome or even good-looking, he had an oddly.....elegant face, long and lean, with a strong bone structure no longer blurred by the stubble. Deep groves bracketed his mouth. 

The paper crackled under her fingers. "What is this?"

"The five hundred dollars for the first month of rent, plus a five-hundred dollar deposit. If you'll have me, I plan on staying a while. I'll pay on the twenty-fourth of each month if that's okay by you."

Wow. That was definitely wonderful by her. The thousand dollars was going straight into the bank on Monday morning. Rey pulled out a drawer of the secretaries where he kept her bank statements, dropped the envelope in, and nudged it closed with her hip.

She'd been incredibly low all day, alone in the bookshop, with only an empty house to come home to and a long, long lonely Christmas weekend to look forward to. But now it appeared things were finally looking up. 

She smiled as she walked into the kitchen. She'd outdone himself with dinner, maybe to celebrate no longer being quite so _alone._

Kylo Ren was a boarder, it was true, but he was turning into a good one. Who knew? Maybe he even had conversation in him? Maybe---

"Rey?" His deep voice was low, a questioning note in it. She turned. In the kitchen a bell ringed. The roast was ready. 

"Yes?"

He pointed a long finger at the secretaries. "Aren't you going to count that?"

She stared at him. "Count what?"

"The money. I want you to count it."

Rey looked at him, then over at the drawer. She gave a half laugh. "But--but I trust you."

He inclined his head gravely. "That's reassuring to hear. And to know. But you should count it, just the same."

"But the roast---"

"I promise you, it won't burn in the minute it will take you to check to see that the money is all there. Humor me, please." That harsh face didn't seem to have pleading in its repertory. 

The word had been said softly enough, but something in his face said it wasn't a word he used often. And it definitely wasn't a face you would say so. Well, someone a big and strong as he was, an ex-soldier to boot, probably didn't need to say pretty please very often. He probably just took what he wanted.

It was, after all, the way of the world. Rey had butted her head time and time again against those more powerful than she was, and she'd lost, every single time. Power in her world, was usually money and connections, not physicals strength, but since he didn't have any of them--money or connections, or physical power---she always came out the worse for wear. 

He didn't move, and he didn't say anything else, so on a sigh, she turned back and pulled open the drawer. The envelope wasn't sealed---the flap was tucked into the envelope like a Christmas card. 

Inside were ten very new, very crisp hundred-dollar bills. She counted them, one by one, laying each bill on the surface of the table with a little slap, then when she'd done counting, tucked them back into the envelope and placed the envelope back in the drawer. 

It had been a charade, but maybe he'd been right to force her to check. The crisp feel of the notes was so reassuring. The month of January was going to be okay, money-wise. The boiler hadn't conked out yet. She had an attractive man over for dinner. Man, was she on a roll.

Rey turned back to him. He hadn't budged an inch, it seemed. She'd never met anyone, man or woman, who would keep so still. "Now, unless that money is counterfeit, and if it is, I'll know it on a Monday morning when I deposit it in the bank, I suggest you sit down and pour us a glass of wine. I'll be right back."

When she walked back into the dining room, he was already seated and had poured them both half a glass of wine. She stood immediately as soon as she crossed the threshold. 

Rey put down the roast beef and sat, nothing that he didn't sit down until she did. That rule had gone out with the dinosaurs, though apparently Kylo Ren hadn't heard about it. Kylo's dark gaze took in the table, then shifted to her.

"This looks absolutely wonderful. Thank you. I didn't dream when I landed that I'd be having such a elegant meal tonight. I thought I'd check into a hotel and try to find a diner somewhere."

Rey smiled, pleased, as she served him. Yes, she had set a good table. And tonight she'd outdone herself with the cooking. It was an old trick.

When depressed---slap on more makeup, slip on your prettiest blouse, put on some great music. Just as long as it didn't cost money she didn't have, Rey knew all the tricks. The dining room was beautiful in its own right. When her parents had been alive, it had been painted a light canary yellow that went wonderfully well with the warm cherry-wood Art Deco dining set.

A year after the accident, on one of the few occasions he'd actually managed to stand upright, Toby had slipped and banged his head against the sharp corner of the buffet, then against the wall, a bright red track of blood. 

Rey had been so appalled and heartbroken at seeing her brother's blood on the wall, the next weekend she'd painted the walls an uninspiring, the flat mint green that was just one shade off hospital khaki. It had been the only color on sale the day she'd stopped by the local hardware store.

Other than that, the room was as it had been in its heyday, when the Kenobi's entertained senators and judges and famous writers and artists.

So far, she hadn't had the heart to tell off the dining room set, though if Toby had lived much longer, the dining room set would have had to go, together with the last of the artwork and, eventually the house.

The cherry-wood table was polished to a high gloss. The candle flames were reflected deep into the wood, as were the crystal glasses, almost as sharply as if the tabletop were a mirror.

The candle flames were reflected in Kylo's dark eyes, too, tiny flickers of light within the darkness. There was another kind of light in his eyes, too, unmistakable. There was no doubt that he was appreciating more then dinner.

He hadn't said an untoward word, but the male interest was evident and potent. He didn't do anything as crass as look her up and down---his eyes remained riveted on her face---but Rey had been on the receiving male attention to know quite well when it was directed to her. Kylo Ren was definitely interested. 

She was looking good, she knew that. She'd showered and taken special care with her makeup and out her hair up, with a few tendrils left down to caress her shoulders.

She had on one of her mother's Armani's. There was no way on this earth she could afford a cocktail gown like the one she had on, never in a million years. But she still had her mother's wardrobe, and a rich and varied one it was, too.

Evelyn Kenobi had, had excellent taste, with a wealthy and indulgent husband who loved to shower her with gifts and show her off. In a effort to raise her spirits, Rey had decided to dress up for the evening.

Damn it, it was Christmas Even, and instead of spending it alone in a cold house, she was spending it with a very attractive man and---wonder of wonders---the boiler hadn't broken down yet so she could wear the black off-the-shoulder cocktail gown without feeling like a complete idiot.

It almost felt like a date. When was the last time she had been out on a date? Long before Toby's last collapse. September, maybe?

She'd gone to Rose's bank to pick her up for lunch and Rose had introduced her to the new vice president, Finn Lockwood. He was tall, dark, handsome and thirty-something, and he was immediately smitten. He got her number from Rose and called that very evening for a date.

Finn took her to an very upscale Japanese restaurant, cool and elegant. It was a wonderful September evening, warm and ripe with promise. Finn was smart, funny, romantic.

Charming company. Sexy in a low-key sort of way. Rey was seriously thinking of sleeping with him after a couple of dates, wondering how it would be, when her cell-phone rang. Toby's nurse. Toby was having a panic attack. 

Finn insisted on accompanying her home and watched, horrified, as she dealt with Toby. She never heard from Finn again after that. She never even _saw_ him again. It was quite embarrassing the way he avoided her. He managed never to be around when she picked Rose up for lunch, and he never responded to the one message that she left on his answering machine.

Rey didn't need to be hit over the head to understand that he didn't want to be part of her life anyway. Her life was too harsh for him.

After that, she and Rose had lunch at her bookstore. First Page, taking turns paying for the Chinese takeout. It was easier on everyone that way. 

Kylo put his fork down and took a sip of his wine. "Wow. I can't remember a better meal. Actually, I can't remember my last good meal at all. It was definitely before Afghanistan, for sure."

Rey watched Kylo eating. He had excellent table manners, though she quavered every time that he picked up his wine-glass. His hands were large and rough-looking. They were capable of delicacy, though. His movements were precise and controlled.

Maybe her wineglass was safe, after all.

* * *

Finn had, had small soft hands. She tried to imagine him as a solider in Afghanistan and failed miserably.

"So what exactly were you doing in Afghanistan? If you don't mind me asking, that is?" she asked, piling more food onto Kylo's plate and smiling inwardly at this grateful nod.

"I've been twice, actually. Once for the government, and once for the company. The first time was a six-month rotation right after I got my Ranger Tab. We were on winter patrol in the Hindu Kush. The the second time was after I resigned my commission to help my dad run his company. We landed the contract to protect Habib Munib. I just got back a couple of weeks ago."

Rey blinked, fork half-way to her mouth. "Habib Munib? Wait, isn't he---heavens, isn't he the president of Afghanistan?"

"Yeah. Sort of. That's the theory, anyway." Kylo's hard mouth lifted a half smile. It didn't soften his features but it softened her a little. "The truth us, Habib isn't a president of much these days beyond the Presidential Palace in Kabul and about a ten-block radius about it. Any warlord up in the mountains has more real power---and certainly more firepower--than Habib does. And every warlord in the country--- and believe me there are a lot of them---is gunning for him. Keeping him alive is....a challenge. We managed mainly by creating the sandbag capital of the world around him."

She'd seen photographs of Kylo! She must have. Habib Munib was often in the news and in pictures showed him surrounded by his American bodyguards. Big beefy guys, mostly, with beards and sunglasses, cradling alarmingly large black guns. She'd imagined them to be U.S officers, but apparently they weren't.

"Did you enjoy the challenge?"

He paused to think. "Yeah, I did. A lot, actually. We had to outthink some pretty inventive and seriously nasty bad guys. It helped that Habib's one of the good guys. Studied at Cal-Tech, got himself an engineering degree that he doesn't use and solid poker skills, which be does. The man's got a good head on his shoulders. He's is country's best hope for a future that isn't grinding poverty and crazed fanatic's out on the streets killing people to keep the country safe from women who wear lipstick and nail polish. We worked really hard to keep him alive."

Rey watched his face as he talked. She'd forgotten to turn the overhead chandelier on, so most of the light came from candlelight. It turned his darkly tanned skin a deep bronze color, the flickering flames alive in his dark eyes. 

The house was lukewarm at best, but Rey wasn't cold. He was sitting at right angles to her, her elbows, almost touching, and he seemed to be radiating heat. She felt enveloped by it, the very molecules of air between them speeded up and hot. 

"If you liked the work so much, why did you leave?"

"I got word that my dad was sick. He didn't tell me that he was feeling bad---didn't want to worry me. It was his secretary who told me. She called and said that my Dad was vomiting blood. I flew straight back. I bullied him until he went to the doctor." A faint smile creased his face---a second and it was gone, like a shadow of a smile instead of the real thing. "He was a stubborn person, my dad. Hated doctors. It took some doing to get him to one. And when I finally dragged him in for tests, we found out when he had stomach cancer. I just couldn't leave him while he was sick. The cancer was very advanced. He only lasted a few weeks. After he died, I decided to do something else."

Rey rested her chin on her fist as she looked at him. "Why?"

He put his fork down, thoughtful. He took his time answering. That was something Rey really liked. She disliked glib quips, ready-made answers. He was clearly struggling to find the right words. It was entirely possible that words weren't his medium. He was a solider, after all.

Finally, he spoke, his deep voice quiet. "My father was a soldier all his life. When he retired, he founded a company where he could use his special skills. I loved my time in the Army, but I know now that, in a way, I enlisted in the Army to please him. When he needed me for the company, I resigned my commission to help him. I was more than happy to do it. If he were still alive, I'd still be in Afghanistan, still with the company. But after me died, I realized"---he stopped and struggled for words----"I-I realized that the company was _his_ dream. Not mine. And much as I miss him, my father's death set me free to pursue it."

There was silence in the big room. Through an archway was the living room where she'd lit the fire. It crackled and popped. He was comfortable for silence. Rey liked it.

"So tell me, what is this dream of yours?"

He hesitated. "I have---some special skills. Some of the Army gave me, some I was born with. They were useful to my father, and I was happy to place them at his service and at the service of the company's clients. But he's gone now. I think I want to use my skills for other kinds of people. The kinds of people who can't go to a security company and have their problems solved by buying what they need." His teeth clenched, the strong jaw muscles flexing under the dark skin. "Security companies protect the kind of people who already have the means to protect themselves. They're usually rich or at least have enough money to buy themselves the protection of a whole company. A lot of them companies of their own, with employees to stand between them and danger. Hiring extra security is sometimes just icing on the cake, and sometimes, frankly, a status symbol. I think what I'd really like to do is teach people who need it self-defense skills. People who need to know how to defend themselves but can't afford professional security staff."

"And is that what you want to do here? Start a-a what? Self-defense school? Here in Summerville?"

He nodded. "I wanted a fresh start. I....passed through here with my father and when I was a child. I like the place. I just always had it in the back of my mind that I'd like to settle here."

"There are worse places to live." A huge gust of wind rattled the windowpanes and Rey gave a wry smile. "And then, of course, there's the delightful, balmy weather."

He gave another half-smile. "I'll confess I didn't plan on arriving in the middle of blizzard."

"I'll bet you didn't. Summerville's a nice enough town, but I have to warn you that sometimes the winters can be quite vicious. The weather forecasters are predicting a particularly cold and long one this year. Is that going to scare you off?" 

It wasn't entirely an idle question. It would be a pity if he went. He was going to make a nice boarder, and the steady money would be very welcome. 

He froze, as if she'd said something of the unusual importance. "No, ma'am," he said softly, watching her eyes. "A little bit of cold weather isn't going to scare me off, believe me. I've been thinking about this for a long, long time."

Rey was silent, watching him as he bent his head and finished off the last of his third helping of roast potatoes. Steadily, neatly, he'd tucked away an astonishing amount of food. Apparently what he'd said was true---he hadn't had a good meal in months. 

"This meal was very delicious, thank you."

"Well, I'm very glad that you enjoyed it. I think a little extra effort is called for on Christmas Eve, don't you? And I've got a nice meal planned for tomorrow." She dabbed her mouth with one of the heavy linen Pratesi napkin she only took out on special occasions. "But I must warn you, you won't be getting fed like this every day."

He took in a deep breath, clearly searching for the right words. Rey was distracted for a moment by the sight of his massive chest wall expanding with the breath. She could see his pectorals through the sweater. He probably had thick chest hair, or maybe he was baby soft underneath. A sudden image of that chest without the sweater bloomed in her mind, and a surge of pure heat shot through her.

It was so unlike, she almost looked around to see if it was someone else who had turned hot at the thought of a man's naked chest instead of her, Rey Kenobi, Ms. Cool.

"I won't be complaining, ma'am," he said finally. "I spent seven years eating MRE's, and they taste like year-old dog food mixed with rubber. It's about as chewy, too."

"Well," she answered, amused. "I'm not too sure what MRE's are---sounds to me like some kind of a weapon, actually---but they must be dreadful. I'll treat you better than the Army did, that's for sure." 

"Yes, ma'am." His dark eyes bored into hers. "I'll just bet you will. I'm certainly looking forward to it."

His words were completely neutral, polite, even. There was nothing suggestive in either his tone or body language. He kept his gaze strictly above her neck. But there was no mistaking the undertone of his words. Sex hormones suddenly swirled within the air, a little flurry of them, so powerful she was not only at a loss for words but could feel the air leave her lungs.

Potent, dark, utterly male desire flared in the room, so powerfully she could practically see the waves of desire coming at her from across the shiny surface of the table.

Rey had been desired before, but she'd never felt this dark magnetic pull before. She could say something, something lighthearted to dissipate the tension in the air. But for the life of her nothing came to mind.

She couldn't even look away from him, his dark gaze so compelling it was like a punch to the stomach. 

Her chest felt tight, and she found to hard to breathe. It took Rey a full minute to realize that it wasn't just him. She was feeling his desire _back._ It had been so long since she'd felt it she hadn't even recognized it. Kylo Ren was so unlike the men she'd been attracted to in the past that it hadn't even occurred to her that she could desire him.

Rey was attracted to me who were witty and sophisticated and worldly. Men who enjoyed books and the theater and had an ironic take on life. 

The little she'd seen of Kylo Ren showed that he was almost the exact opposite. She hadn't seen wit---indeed, he'd been serious to the point of grimness. He didn't look sophisticated, or worldly. True, he'd traveled, but to outposts of civilization, where an ability to wield a gun was more useful than a knowledge of the local museums.

That was her head talking. The rest of her body simply wasn't listening. It was completely taken over with hormonal overload, a reaction to the sheer.... _maleness_ of Kylo Ren.

It was humbling to think that her body wasn't paying any attention at all to what he was saying, what books he might have read, what his politics might be. No, her heart rate and breathing speeded up because he had the most magnificent male body that she'd ever seen. 

Her knees trembled at the sight of his hands---large, elegant, rough, strong. His deep voice set off vibrations in the pit of her stomach. 

Oh, this was bad. Kylo Ren was her boarder. He was paying her an above-market for life in her very beautiful but at times fiercely uncomfortable home. She couldn't afford to be breathless when she spoke to him, or for him to catch her sneaking admiring glances at the breadth of his shoulders or the size of his biceps.

Rey had to get a grip on herself _now._ She had to out his back on a landlady-tenant basis. Cordial and impersonal.

* * *

She pasted a polite smile on her face and made polite landlady-talk. "Would you like some more roast beef?"

"No, ma'am," he said, unsmiling. "I'm fine." His eyes never wavered from hers. 

They were so dark. She'd rarely seen eyes that dark, with only a hint of a distinction between the pupil and the iris....

She shook herself. 

"I hope that you saved some room for dessert. I made chocolate mousse. We can take it in the living room with the coffee, if you'd like it." 

He became, if possible, even more still. His eyes probed hers, as if she'd said something compelling. 

"Yes, ma'am. I'd like that very much." He rose before she did, in a smooth, graceful motion and pulled her chair out as she stood up. When was the last time a man had done that? 

Rey then pointed at the living room. "Go on ahead, I'll bring in the coffee with the mousse." 

When she walked into the living room carrying a tray with two bowls of mousse and two cups if coffee, she saw him crouching beside the fire, feeding a log, stoking the wood with the poker. Sparks flew up the flue. A log fell, bursting into red-hot flames, outlining his broad back in a rim of fiery red.

The tight black jeans showed the long, massive muscles of his thighs, flexed in the crouch. He rose easily and turned. "Here, let me get that." He took the tray from her hands and put it down on the coffee table.

The fire rose, renewed, great rolling flames greedily licking at the wood, filling the room with heat and the friendly crackle of the flames. It was like a third person in the room with them. Rey sat back on the sofa, sipping her coffee.

As so often in difficult times, she tried to count her blessings. She was in good health. January's bank payment would be made. February's---well, that was in the future, wasn't it? Kylo said he was staying. He didn't look like the kind of man who'd run screaming from a temperamental boiler.

She might make it through February. She might not. One thing was the last six years had taught her was not to sweat the things she couldn't influence or change. 

And to make the most of things, thinking resolutely positively. She'd trained herself to do it. Unfortunately, frantically thinking happy thoughts didn't always work as well as she had wanted. Tomorrow was Christmas Day, when the world as she knew it had come to a crashing end.

Christmases were always so very hard. There were so many memories of happy Christmas Eves in this room. Mom and Dad and Toby, music and laughter and firelight. She remembered, a Christmas Even with Dameron, before the accident. Toby had been, what? At least seven? She'd started dating Dameron---the first of their many stop-and-go-affairs---and she'd invited him over Christmas Eve.

Her parents had been charmed by Dameron's good manners and adult conversation. That was before they got to know him. Later, her father had grown to despise him. But that first evening they were all smiles. 

She---well, she'd been blindly infatuated. So blind that she lost her virginity to him a couple of months later. That evening, Mom had filled the living room with candlelight. Her mother had loved candles. She lit them on every possible occasion and sometimes just because she felt like it.

The memory of that evening would warm her still. She could even remember the sharp smells of that evening melding together---Mom's Diorissmio, hot candle wax, wood-smoke the cook's cakes and scones, Early Grey tea and Dad's bourbon.

A heady scent of joy and celebration. She'd played the piano and they'd sung Christmas carols. She'd played----

"....play?"

With a wrench, Rey brought her mind back to the present. Her boarder was sitting next to her. Not so close that it made her uncomfortable, but close enough so that she could feel his body heat and feel the air move and the sofa dip as he leaned forward to put his cup on the coffee table.

Seeing him this close, she felt slightly overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. It seemed his shoulders took up half the sofa. Her perfectly normal-sized coffee cup looked tiny in his hands. His hands were compelling, unlike any other male hands she'd ever seen.

Though they were huge, the skin visibly rough, as if eh worked with them a lot of outdoors, they were also naturally well shaped, long-fingered, elegant and strong, with a light dusting of black hairs on the backs. The nails were clean but clearly unmanicured, so very unlike Dameron's hands, which were pale and soft, with perfect, buffed nails.

Oh my God. She was doing it again---drifting with her thoughts. He'd said something. "I beg your pardon?"

Kylo inclined his head toward the piano. His voice was patient. He was a strong guy---a solider. Presumably that gave him extra patience not to roll his eyes and shout at the crazy lady who drifted away in her head at the drop of a hat. "I see you have a piano. I imagine you play. I'd love to hear you play something."

 _No, absolutely not_ was her first instinct, and she had to clench her jaws tightly closed to keep from saying the words. 

No way could she play. She'd had played since before Toby died. Not enough time had passed. Her feelings were too close to the surface, the memories too bright, the pain still razor-sharp.....

"Please," he said and waited, watching her patiently.

Her chest was so tight it was hard to breathe. The thought of playing the piano made her slightly ill, but how could she say not him? He couldn't possibly understand what he'd asked of her. Saying no would sound as if she were insane. Or maybe even worse for a landlady---rude.

She glanced up at Kylo. He was watching her quietly, his gaze dark and penetrating. She met his eyes for a moment, then looked down at her hands, hands that itched to touch the keys for comfort, hands that at the same time never wanted to play the piano ever again. This was so scary.

Rey felt she was poised on the edge of some deep, deep precipice from which there would be no return. She could either step forward and fall into he abyss of perpetual grief; a ghost of a woman with only ghosts to keep her company, forever mourning the past.

Or she could step back and somehow reclaim her life and have something resembling a future. 

She had to stop living in the past. She had to stop grieving. She had to stop thinking incessantly of Toby and her parents. She had to stop _now._ This was so hard. But it had to be done. She could do it. 

Over the past six years, she'd learned how to do the hard things. Over and over again. She drummed up a smile, upturned lips and a flash of teeth, hoping he wouldn't notice how false it was.

"All right," she said, her throat tight. "Of course, I'll play for you."

Resolutely, she got up and went to the piano. There was an off chance that over the past two months the piano had gone out of tune. God knows there'd been enough changes in temperature with her temperamental boiler to warp the wood.

If the piano wasn't in tune, well then, that would be a perfect excuse not to play, and it wouldn't be her fault at all. She stopped by the big black upright and played a quick scale. The notes rang out true and clear in the big room. The piano was perfectly in tune.

This was something she was simply going to have to face. Clenching her teeth, she sat down. She turned, surprised, when Kylo lit the candles in the brass holders on either side of the upright with one of the long matches kept by the hearth.

"It looks so pretty like this," he said, and blew the match out. 

Rey sighed. Yes, it was very pretty. She looked up at him. "What would you like me to play? Do you have a favorite Christmas carol? I have a good repertoire of carols."

"No, no carols, please. I've been listening to way too much Muzak in the airports lately." He tapped the score in front of her. "How about this? It must have been the last thing you played."

Rey froze. "This" was the score of _Phantom of the Opera._ She'd played it incessantly for Toby the last two weeks of his life. Please God, not this. A Christmas carol would have been easy. She could choose one with no particular memories attacked. "Silent Night," maybe. Or "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." The only thing they reminded her of was school.

But the _Phantom of the Opera....._

Oh dear sweet God. Anything but that. This was going to be so _hard._ Rey touched the keys, stroking them, familiarizing herself with the touch of the ivory and wood all over again. Music had always been her refuge, her place of peace.

It was a sign of how deep her grief had been that she'd stayed away from music for so long. She looked up uncertainly and met his gaze. Dark and steady and penetrating, as if he could reach inside her mind and read all the painful emotions swirling around inside, including her panic and fear.

This was a man who'd faced gunfire. How could someone like that possibly understand a fear of a keyboard? He couldn't. Do it _now._

Taking a deep breath, Rey slowly started playing a few, halting notes with her right hand. The notes were discordant, too slow, but the song was recognizable. The opening bars of "Think of Me"---the haunting melody Christine sang to the Phantom---came out. 

The song was forever branded in her heart as a hymn to pain and loss. Her hand faltered, and she kept her index finger down on F for a long moment, wondering if she could go on. She had to. She had to only out of courtesy to her boarder but for herself. And for her own sanity. 

You must do this, Rey ordered herself, her spine stiffening. Her right picked out the notes of the opening again, faster, smoother, more melodic. The left hand came up, reluctantly, to provide the counterpoint to the lush melody. Muscle memory took over. The notes started flowing as her hands moved lightly over the keys, the song as familiar to her as her own name.

_Think of me...._

Mom and Dad and Toby had flown from Seattle to meet with her in New York on Thanksgiving. She'd taken the Amtrak down from Boston, where she was studying music and men, having a great time for both. Dad had booked a two-room suite at the Waldorf. 

The Kenobi family had four magical days together, taking in the sights by day and going to plays and musicals by night.

Their last night in New York they'd all gone to see _Phantom_ at the Majestic Theater. She'd been just old enough to sigh at the romanticism of the love triangle. The doomed, scarred lover banished forever to the shadows, the handsome young viscount and the beautiful young woman loved by both men.

Toby had been just young enough to get jazzed at swirling capes, chandeliers crashing to the stage, candles rising from the water, a mysterious boat on a lake under the Opera.

Toby had been still hopping with excitement the next morning when they accompanied her to the station. She remembered them boarding the train back to Boston, looking through the window at Mom and Dad blowing kisses and Toby excitedly waving good-bye. A happy family with their whole lives in front of them. 

It was the last time she saw her parents. It was the last time she saw Toby walk. For years, he refused to listen to the CD of the musical.

* * *

Rey understood completely. It reminded him too much of what he'd lost, of the carefree boy that he'd been, a boy with a whole lifetime ahead that had been cruelly snatched from him. Then, suddenly, a couple of months ago, he started insisting that she play the music for him, over and over as she grew weaker and weaker.

 _Toby knew that she was dying_ , Rey thought suddenly, the hairs rising in the nape of the neck. That was why he asked her to play the music so often. 

Toby felt his death approaching and he wanted to hear the music that reminded him of the last time the family had been together, the last time he'd been a healthy boy. She bent her head, her hands moving on their own, without her having to think of notes.

The delicate, romantic music filled the room, filled her head, filled her heart. Her hands floated over the keyboard, the music coming from the deepest reaches of her being.

_...please promise me...._

She forgot where she was, she forgot about the large dark-eyed man by her side watching her, as she was swept up in the haunting melody. A song of yearning and the promise of love when the hope is all gone.

_....that sometimes you will think of me...._

Softly, softly the song ended on one last lingering note that echoed, then died away. Her hands slipped from the keys to lie in her lap. Rey bowed her head, a loose tendril of air falling forward to lie on her shoulder. A sudden current of ice-cold air swept through the room, ruffling the pages of the score, chilling her down to the bone.

Goosebumps rose on her skin. She looked up, startled, as the candles in their brass holders guttered, then died. The heavy curtains fluttered briefly, then stilled.

It was over almost before it began. The air was suddenly still once more. Wisps of smoke from the smoldering wicks rose straight up. Nothing moved.

Something had come---and gone---from the room. To her dying day, Rey believed that it was at the precise instant that her brother's soul departed from his life, finally, finally breaking free from the broken care of flesh he hated so much.

He'd heard her play one last time and had left the world. Rey had just plated Toby's requiem. Now he was finally, truly gone. And she was alone. 

One large tear slipped down her cheek and fell on the keyboard, plopping so heavily that the key made a ghost of a sound. Kylo hadn't moved, but something in the very stillness of the air to her side slowly made her turn. He was standing next to her, one big hang on the top of the piano, watching her steadily. She had no idea what he could be thinking.

Probably what a crazy, crazy woman she was. Suddenly. Rey was so very weary of her grief and loneliness. Something had to happen to break her out of this icy shell of sorrow that encased her. She needed human warmth and connection, she longed for it.

She needed to touch someone. She needed for someone to touch her. Other than an occasional handshake, she hadn't touched another human being since Toby's death.

She looked up into the dark eyes of a perfect and complete stranger and spoke the truest words she knew out of a painfully tight throat.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," she whispered. "Will you---will you stay with me?"


	7. Chapter 7

The human eye sees what it expects to see. Hux knew that. Like all soldiers he used that fact often. Half of military tactics is deception and evasion. So when a five-ten, 180-pound blond man wearing dark sunglasses strode confidently through the UN camp, dressed in well-pressed fatigues with the UN badges on his shirtfront and wearing the distinctive bright blue helmet of the UN peacekeeping force, nobody gave him a second glance.

He was just another five hundred UN soldiers in the encampment. It was evening. Half the troops were on the routine patrols---unarmed, the idiots. 

Hux still found it hard to believe that soldiers would allow themselves to go unarmed. Orders from on high. Military observers and peacekeepers had to show their neutrality at all costs. Dopheld had thought it stupid, too. Hux had a sudden pang of sympathy of the guy.

He felt like an incredibly asshole walking around unarmed in West Africa, a place where it was as if some giant hole had opened up and sucked in everyone who was human, leaving only deranged monsters.

He'd only been unarmed for a couple of days, but it felt like forever. Hux could only imagine what a whole tour of duty here unarmed would feel like, where if you feel into the wrong hands, you could have your hands and feet chopped off by teenagers, be staked out in the broiling equatorial sun with your bowels slashed open for the insects to ear or be skinned alive, without any weapon whatsoever to defend yourself with.

Well, the hell with that, he was getting the fuck out. Right now. Just as Dopheld would have. 

The evening air was suddenly filled with the familiar _whump whump whump_ of a helicopter. Hux walked fast in the direction of the sound. He wanted to break into a run, but he didn't dare.

In the twilight, he could make the familiar outline of a Huey, landing an improvised helipad carved out of the surrounding forest. The pilot landed gently, smack in the center of the circle, and stayed in the cockpit, his hands in the controls. He clearly wanted to be out of there as soon as possible.

He was landing at last to increase his chances of survival. The route from Freetown took them over rebel-held territory. RPG's needed daylight to take planes and helicopters down.

Men dressed in jeans and sweatshirts with the sleeves cut off jumped down nimbly and started unloading boxes. They worked silently and efficiently. Within ten minutes, there was a neat stack of boxes lined up on the ground. Hux walked straight up to one of the men. 

He shouted over the noise of the rotors and the engine. "May I ask where you're going next?" He was a good mimic, and he'd talked enough with Dopheld to be able to imitate his slight Finnish accent perfectly. 

One of the men stopped for a second to look at him curiously. "Back to Lungi," he shouted back, then took another box from the man behind him, passing it on to the man in front of him.

 _Perfect._ Lungi International Airport, his way out. If they left immediately, he could make the 9:00 P.M flight to Paris, then onto the States. He'd be back in the U.S before anyone even thought to question whether Dopheld had made it back home. 

"I'm on temporarily leave," he shouted over the thumping whine of the main rotors. "My flight departs early tomorrow morning from Lungi. I was supposed to hitch a ride with the convoy, but I must have missed it. My commanding officer made me go over some paperwork, the bloody bastard." Hux rolled his eyes. The man looked like an NCO. NCOs throughout the world are familiar with dipshit on office. "Can you give me a lift to the airport? Otherwise, I'll lose my flight."

The man stopped and looked back. "We're off-loading four hundred pounds if supplies, so we've got plenty of room. I don't see why not. Wait here." He leaped into the cockpit, and Hux saw him confer the pilot. 

The pilot turned with this head sharply and started Hux, looking vaguely insectoid with his deep black pilot's sunglasses. It was impossible to tell his expression. Finally, after a long scrutiny he said something, and the man he'd been talking to jumped back. He jerked a thumb toward the pilot and put his mouth close to Hux's ear.

"Pilot said sure," he shouted. "We'll be back at Lungi in a hour. Hop on it."

 _Fucking A!_ Hux quickly climbed into the cabin and settled himself in for the first leg of his journey back to his diamonds and his new life.

* * *

_I don't want to be alone tonight. Will you---will you stay with me?_

The words lingered in the quiet of the room. A long broke apart, the pieces falling to the hearth with a hiss and a flurry of sparks. Kylo reached out, hesitated for just a moment, then used his thumb to gently wipe the tear away from Rey's cheek. 

She didn't move, she didn't even blink, watching him to see how he'd react to her words. Her skin felt like pure satin, so tempting he lifted his hand away. It trembled.

His hand fucking trembled. Kylo had been team sniper for three years. Snipes are made---forged in the fire of ceaseless, pitiless training. But snipers are also born--with a rare combination of natural born eye-and-hand coordination and the kind of nature that can wait, endlessly, for the right moment to explode into action.

Kylo never lost his cool, ever. He'd hunkered behind a rock in the prone position, finger on the trigger, eye on and off the scope in half-hour intervals, for three days and three nights for the chance of catching Mohammed Khan, drinking only a liter of water and never crapping. His hand had never once wavered, and when he'd finally made the shot, it was a perfect kill.

Khan had dropped like a stone with a .50 caliber bullet through the bridge of the nose, one of the the few shots guaranteed to kill instantly. One shot one kill. he sniper's mantra. 

He was in control of himself, always. His life had depended more times than he could count on that control. The fact that his hands trembled scared the shit out of him. He couldn't lose control, not tonight. 

He daren't. If he lost control, who knew what he would do to Rey? Fuck her too hard? Ending up hurting her? Jesus, maybe _biting_ her? He shuddered at the thought. Right now, right now, he was shaking with lust, clenching his hands into fists because he was afraid he'd grab her and throw her to the floor.

Every cell in his body was slick with lust, aching to have her. It wasn't just a six-month dry spell. It was as if he'd never had sex with anyone before. It felt like a lifetime of dammed-up desire was raging through his system, burning up his veins.

Touch was too difficult just right now. _Use words,_ he told himself. _I don't want to be alone tonight. Will you---will you stay with me?"_

"I won't let you be alone tonight, Rey. I won't let you be alone ever again. Come with me." Cupping a hand under her elbow, safely covered by black silk, Kylo lifted her from the piano stood. 

She rose, huge gray-silver eyes fixed on his. _Do not fuck this up,_ he repeated to himself. His new mantra. He had to get a grip. When he'd come down the stairs a few hours ago, it was as if someone had reached deep inside his head and pulled out the most compelling image he could imagine, one he didn't even know he'd had in his head, something guaranteed to touch all his buttons and get his blood up.

The Kenobi dining room in candlelight, and Rey standing there, lighting the last of the candles, the warm glow turning her skin the palest of ivories. She was beautiful beyond his wildest dreams, shiny golden dark hair up so he could admire the long curve of her white neck, dressed in some elegant black dress that seemed designed specifically to show her small waist and pale shoulders.

Kylo had neve dared even dream that one day he'd been in Jakku Manor with Rey waiting for him with a smile---yet here he was, and there she was.

And when she'd invited him into the living room--Jesus. It was like some magnificent wheel of fortune turning full circle. Life had been incredibly brutal to him his first eighteen years of life.

The lowest point of his life had been where he'd stood on the other side of that window, the one right where behind Rey. The one he was close enough to touch. He'd been a starving, homeless half-boy, half beast in rags, staring hungrily at a life he couldn't even begin to fathom. He could barely imagine being on the same planet as the otherworldly creatures he had watched through the glass while shivering in the snow.

Such beautiful people in such a beautiful room. And when the wheel of fortune had turned. He'd been found by the Colonel, adopted and given everything his hungry soul ached for---love, discipline, purpose. 

He, the penniless boy had even, in the end, turned into a wealthy young man. And now that wheel of fortune had turned once again, richly, plunging him straight into the land of his dreams. He was on the other side of that window, now.

Not the beggar boy with his nose pressed against the glass, but the man inside the room with Rey. Carefully, touching her only by her material-clad elbow, he nudged her closer to him.

He himself didn't dare move. He felt like a big car of C4 with the detonator cap in place. One wrong move, and he'd ignite and explode.

No, she had come to him. And she was, too. Carefully watching him out of huge, troubled eyes, she obeyed his touch and stepped forward until her feet stood between his, and the tips if of her breasts touched his chest. Kylo had no idea what she was thinking. She didn't look consumed with desire for him as he was for her.

If anything she looked sad and completely lost. Something would have to be done to change that because that wasn't what he wanted from her in bed. Slowly, carefully, he bent down to her and brushed her lips with his.

Her mouth was cold---she was like a beautiful marble statue. He lifted his head, let his eyes roam over that lovely face, then fit his mouth over hers again, a little more firmly this time. She watched him, gazed troubled, until the very last second, then eyes finally fluttered closed. Beneath the light eye shadow, he could see the thin tracery of delicate blue veins under the pale skin.

He touched his lops to her eyelids, then moved over to kiss the soft skin of her temple, feeling the silky strands of hair tickling his cheek.

Her skin was a little warmer now. That marble statue was slowly turning into a human woman. He touched her lips to hers once more, a little more firmly, opening her mouth with his just enough to get one quick, heady taste of her with his tongue. She tasted like heaven---chocolate and coffee and the wine they'd had for dinner.

He could very easily get drunk on her taste alone. He dipped his tongue in her mouth again briefly, then withdrew and lifted his head.

"Oh!" Rey breathed, looking slightly surprised, as if a kiss were an unexpected thing. The tip of her tongue appeared and touched her lower lip, as if to taste him. 

His cock throbbed at the sight, lifting and lengthening at each pass of her small tongue over that softly pink, luscious mouth. His hard-on had no place to go, trying uselessly to rise beneath the heavy denim. It fucking hurt. Kylo had wondered if he was doing himself some lasting damage. Could cocks actually have the capability to break off?

Every cell in his body was screaming at him to get inside her as fast as possible, but he couldn't. Not yet. There was too great difference in their levels of desire. He was over the top, more excited than he'd ever been in his life, and Rey---Rey was clearly still unsure, though she was the one who's spoken the words that had put things in motion.

Kylo had to remember that what she'd actually said was _I don't want to be alone tonight. Will you---will you stay with me?_

What he hadn't said was---- _I want you to tear all of my clothes off, pine me to the ground, open my legs, and fuck me half to death._

No, that wasn't at all what she'd said, and it was a real pity because what's just what he felt like doing. He had one shot at this---one. If he fucked up tonight, he'd never get another chance. 

If he got too rough, if he scared her, hurt her in any way, she'd toss him out on his ass. The one thing that shone through in Rey was a weary, wary pride. She hadn't let any of the circumstances of her life beat her down. She wasn't going to put up with someone who scared her, or treated her roughly, not even if she desperately needed the money from a boarder. 

Watching her eyes carefully, he bent his head again. This time the kiss was warmer, and her pretty mouth was already open for him.

At the touch of her tongue to his, he jerked away as his cock surged. God, he's nearly cum inside of his pants. He had to cool himself down a little; otherwise, this wasn't going to work. He ran the back of his forefinger down her cheek, marveling at the sanity smoothness. 

A deep breath, then he said what had to be said. "Rey---I don't want to sound unromantic, but I'm afraid that I don't have protection for us. I haven't had sex for over half a year and I don't have anything with me. Please, tell me you've got something here I could use."

Shit, it hadn't even occurred to him on the flights over. Normally, Kylo always had rubber with him. Most of his sex-life was one-night stands---or maybe two--or even three-night stands when he liked the woman enough---so he was always prepared. But he'd come home straight from the hellhole, Afghanistan, the world's largest no-sex zone. 

Even if he managed to get turned on by women covered with rugs, the certain knowledge that any sex partner if his would likely be stoned to death in retaliation was a real turnoff. Sex never even crossed his mind in Afghanistan. He'd come home to the dying Colonel, who'd sent him on his last mission, to Africa. Kylo never fucked while he was in Africa. Never.

So here he was, with literally the woman of his dreams asking _him_ for sex---or at least what's what he hoped she'd asked for---and he was without rubbers, for the first time in his adult life. 

Fuck. If he'd known this could happen, he'd have come equipped with nearly ten boxes of rubbers. Rey blinked, as if coming out of a trance.

"Protection? What do you-oh!" Her hand covered her mouth. "How stupid of me! Of course---condoms! Oh my gosh, no, I don't have any condoms in the house. It's been way longer than six months for me. More like six years. In fact, it's been so long I've probably forgotten how. In fact," she continued stepping slightly back, watching his eyes, "if you decide to change your mind, I totally understand."

"No!" It came out almost a shout and he winced. Kylo felt sweat trickle down his back. "No," he said again, more softly, working to make his tone normal through the sudden tightness in his chest. "Look, we can do it without a rub---a condom. I can be extra careful." I _hope,_ he thought. 

He'd always had complete control over his cock, though right now he was holding on to that control by his fingernails. Rey was silent, looking up and down. She was struggling with something, and he gave her the time to do it. "You look healthy," she said finally. 

He blinked. "Absolutely."

Healthy? Well, yeah. He couldn't be more healthy. Right now, in fact, his rude good health was practically bursting through his pants. "Outside of injuries, I've never been sick a day in my life."

She had turned a light shade of pink. "Because, um....well, the story's this. I was under a lot of stress this fall. My brother was very ill, and I was so worried I sometimes forgot to eat and----" She stopped suddenly her pretty mouth closing with a snap, as if realizing she was babbling. "Well, the upshot is that my doctor put me on the pill," she said finally. "So, we could---"

Whatever else she was going to say was lost in his mouth. Kylo plunged both hands into her hair, to cradle her skill and hold her still for his kiss. Deeper, hotter than ever before. He licked his tongue inside her, dying for her taste, holding her head tightly as he angled his head for a deeper taste of her. Her hands came up to curl around his wrists as he continued kissing her, almost desperately.

He dropped a hand down to her narrow waist and pulled her tightly against him, widening his stance to bring her closer to him. She jerked a little as she came flat up against his rigid cock. Kylo broke the kiss though, he didn't want to.

He wanted to stay here with her forever, his tongue in her mouth. If it were up to him, they'd drop where they were, right onto the hardwood floor. 

He wouldn't even strip her down. Just rip a hole in her stockings and panties and shove his cock right into a cunt that would be as warm and wet as her mouth...…

Kylo groaned. He opened his eyes to look down at her lovely face. Her mouth was wet and slightly swollen from his, a light flush a long her cheekbones. His hands had torn her hairdo apart, and her hair lay in gleaming ringlets along her shoulders. Her hair was the color of chocolate brown and was vaguely surprised that her hair felt cool to the touch the color was warm to the touch.

The skull beneath the hair was warm, though. The rest of her was warm, too, now---finally. Hs arms were full of warm, willingly woman. His arms were full of Rey.

He had to fight to keep his breathing under the control. They were going to fuck. It was official. He was going to fuck Rey. _Bareback_ , no less. He'd never had sex without a rubber in his life.

The way he felt right now, he was probably going to die of sensory overload the instant he entered her.

"I think we'd better take this into the bedroom." His voice sounded hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in days.

Her eyes searched his. "Okay," he whispered. "The bedroom."

Oh, yeah. The quickest and surest way to get her to bed was to carry her there---bridal style. He swung her easily up in his arms and tried not to run for the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him. He had the instincts of a cat. He'd done a lot of mountaineering with the Colonel and in the Rangers and he had superb balance. 

But when he held her in his arms, he felt his knees nearly buckle. It was insane. She couldn't weigh more than 115 pounds. Going into battle he'd carried more weight than that in gear.

Hell, he'd jumped out of planes carrying more weight than that. But it was if a fever affected his system, making him weak and shaky. He needed to get them into bed, fast, before he toppled to the floor with her and made a fool of himself.

Kylo took the stairs two at a time and turned right at the landing. Lucky thing her bedroom door was open because he would have it kicked it down if it wasn't. Putting a boot through her door was probably not a good way to start this. Kylo stopped by the bed and let her slid slowly down his body.

She had to feel his hard-on, quivering with eagerness, leaping at the contact with her body. He was probably interrupting radio reception with the waves of lust emanating from his cock. What was she feeling?

He couldn't tell. Rey stood quietly, passively, like a beautiful little doll, not moving from where he put her down. 

For the very first time in his life, Kylo wished women could be more like men. He wished that Rey had the female equivalent of a cock that would show him just what she was feeling, show him how much she desired him. _If_ she desired him.

He wanted something big and obvious like a stiff dick, to signal clearly what was going on inside her---like maybe a red light on her forehead that blinked on and off. But women weren't like that. Their bodies were secretive, the arousal tucked away where you couldn't see, hidden away in the recesses of their bodies. The only way he could know what point she was at would to be touch her cunt, run his fingers around her opening, probe her.

* * *

Jesus, what if she wasn't turned on? What if she wasn't very wet? What would he do then? He already knew she'd be tight. A woman hadn't had sex for over six years would be small. It might be a problem. God, he hoped.

He had a big cock. It wasn't anything he was particularly proud of, it just was. Since he wasn't the kind of man to compare dick size in locker rooms, he didn't get any bragging rights about it. He just took it as a physical face that pertained to him, like being so tall.

But his size and the fact that he was as turned on as he'd ever been in his life meant he'd have to be careful with her, though his self-control was shredding, turning more insubstantial by the minute. Like right now, looking at her in the dim light if the the bedroom. He'd left the lights in the corridor on, but hadn't turned on any lights in the bedroom, so it was if they were underwater in a faraway ocean.

The first thing anyone noticed about Rey was her coloring, which was exquisite---from the ivory rose of her skin to the chocolate mousse color of her hair and the shimmering gold flecks of her eyes. Now she was leached of all color, a vision of shades of gray in the soft, dim light.

It didn't detract from her beauty. If anything, it highlighted her pale, smooth skin and delicate bone structure. What was she thinking?

He couldn't tell. Her features were still, almost like a portrait of a beautiful woman instead of the living woman herself. He was holding her by the shoulders, feeling the delicate bone structure beneath the soft silk of her dress.

He moved his hand to the back of her dress, tugging on the tab of the zipper, slowly pulling it down. It sounded loud in the silence of the room. He unzipped slowly, trying to gauge from her expression what she was feeling. The zipper ran below the waist.

Rey stood still as a doll while while he opened the back of her dress. With a slight movement of his hand, Kylo had his palm inside the parted material, resting against the small of her back, where the skin was smooth and warm. Exerting a little pressure with his hand, he urged her forward. 

Watching him, she obeyed the silent touch and stepped forward. She had tilt her head back and as he looked down, her marveled at what life had brought him. 

Her eyes weren't green but almost emerald in this light, wide moons he could drown in. Her mouth was slightly open, and breathing was fast. He could feel the little puffs of air of her breath against his throat. She moved an inch closer to him, without his having to press against her back. _Yes!_ He bent his head to her, stopping when she put a small hand to his chest. 

"What? What is it?" he whispered, nearly in a panic.

She wasn't stopping him, was she? If this was a no, he was going to howl at the moon. He was swollen with absolute longing for her. Not being inside her as quickly as possible was unthinkable. If he couldn't slake his lust for her right now, it would probably cause him a permanent injury, leaving him hobbled for life.

"How did you know which room was _my_ bedroom?" she asked softly.

Oh _fuck!_ This was precisely the kind of mistake that could get you killed out in the field. Kylo had been undercover in dangerous places and dangerous people.

Keeping your cover story straight was a life or death necessity. Fuck it up and you die. He controlled his breathing and gently removed her hand from hos chest. His heart had given a huge leap at her words.

He hoped she hadn't felt it just now. He was thinking frantically, trying to will some blood back up into his head so he could reason it out. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. Each time he touched her skin, it was a little shock to feel how incredibly soft it was.

She was looking up at him, unsmiling, waiting for his answer. Kylo pasted a sheepish smile on his face. "By smell."

Rey blinked. "By....I beg your pardon?"

"I have a very keen sense of smell." It was true. He could smell explosives almost as well as Labradors the service used. He ran this thumb over her cheekbone, down over the line of her neck. He bent his head and kissed her under her ear, sniffing loudly, like a dog. "You smell so wonderful," he whispered. "Like freshly cut roses and heaven. Forgive me when I say this, but I just followed my nose. The whole house smells a little like you, though there are food smells in the kitchen and dining room and the living room smells of lemon polish and wood-smoke. But this room---it smells like you and only you. I stopped where the smell was strongest."

He'd pleased her. She smiled uncertainly. "That's nice. I wonder whether maybe soldiers use smell to orient themselves instead of compasses."

He ran the back of his forefinger down her cheek, along the delicate jawbone, then fingered the neckline of her dress. "We do. Soldiers use their sense of smell a lot. I wouldn't let my men smoke for two whole days before going on a mission, for example." He bent and nuzzled his nose against the soft skin under her ear. "Though, I must admit, I've never smelled anything half as nice in the Army as you."

He could feel her lips turn up in a real smile against his cheek. She was more relaxed now and titled her head slightly so he could touch his lips to her neck. Kylo realized she must have sensed his intense lust and had been a little fearful.

The fact that he could make a little joke, however lame, reassured her. It made her think he wouldn't lose control with her. He hoped to God, she was right.

If this hadn't been his own personal fantasy, if she were less beautiful, less desirable, that it would be better. As it was, Kylo knew his self-control wouldn't last much longer. If he were a gentleman, he's take his time with her. Sit on the bed with her, talk to her, make sure that she was fully relaxed.

Calm her down. Spend a long time on foreplay. Make slow, careful love to her. That's what a gentleman would do. Pit that he wasn't a gentleman.

The Colonel had drummed manners into him, and they'd stuck, but it was a thing veneer. He was by nature a predator, designed by blood to prevail no matter what. Added to that was the fact that his biological father had been a nasty, brutal drunk and, knowing his father's tastes in women, his mother had probably been a whore.

The Colonel's courtly ideas swirled in his head, but his father's blood ran in his veins. Kylo had no experience holding back with women. He had no idea how to properly woo a lady.

Actually, now that he came to think about it, he had no experience bedding a lady, either. If this had been anyone but Rey, he'd have been inside her, fucking her, by now.

Kylo ran his hand up the line of her back, sliding upward and around to cup the bra-clad breast. Rey jolted. His mouth was so close to hers he could literally feel her breath in little spurts, the uneven breathing of someone under stress.

"Are you nervous?" he whispered.

She cleared her throat. "A little, yes," she confessed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I feel it, too." In a second, he had her bra undone, and his hand was cupping the soft roundness of her breast, his thumb rubbing the nipple gently. He could also feel her heartbeat, fast and light. He just had to ask her. "Are you scared?"

"Of you?" Rey pulled back a little to look him in the eyes. "No, I'm not."

His breath came out in a whoosh of relief. "That's good to know. Because I won't hurt you, Rey. I can promise you that."

"No." Her eyes watched his, mouth tilted into a faint smile. "I believe you when you say that. I do. I really do, Kylo."

Kylo ran his hands up her back and moved to her shoulders. Slowly, he pushed the open dress off her shoulders and watched it drop to the floor, together with her bra. She was almost naked, with only black panties and black-laced top thighs and black heels.

It was like some fantasy vision. Kylo thought he'd built up his memories of Rey over the years into a woman too beautiful to be true. As it turned out, his memories didn't even begin to do her justice. 


	8. Chapter 8

Jesus, she was so beautiful it hurt the heart. Pale, perfect, so delicately built that he was almost afraid to touch her. Something about his expression must have worried her because the anxious look was back in her eyes again. Though, she didn't raise her hands was to cover herself, her shoulders hunched, as if to somehow hide her breasts from him. 

He needed to say something to reassure her that she was everything he dreamed of, wanted with ever fiber of his being. "You're so fucking beautiful, Rey," he whispered, then winced. "Ouch, I'm sorry, that wasn't quite how I wanted to say it, sorry."

Somehow, though, it worked in his favor. He had made Rey smile and that was worth everything. "Thanks. But I agree, it's certainly not the most elegant of phrasing but...thanks."

What point was she at? He needed to know. Kylo then knelt before her, placed one delicate foot on his thigh and slowly rolled the stocking down her leg. God, this was a fantasy scene, too, calculated to drive any male out of his mind with sheer lust. Her legs were long, slender without being skinny, with the smallest most delicate ankles he'd ever seen.

In a moment, he'd move shoes and stockings. Jesus, even her feet were gorgeous. Small, pale with an elegant arch.

Kylo had never been adventurous in bed. Once he got the woman in bed, his usual style was to climb on top and put it in. Once he was in, he could stay for hours, but he wasn't much for the fancy stuff. 

He rarely went down, rarely was on the bottom. Meat and potatoes sex, that was his style. But right now, running his hands along the long, elegant, soft length of Rey's legs, he had a sudden urge to kiss her toes, one by one.

Suck them. Run his mouth along the delicate arch of her foot. Light bite his way up to her narrow ankle. His breathing was ragged as he contemplated her pretty feet. No, he finally decided. No way could he start at her toes. He'd come before he reached her knees. 

His hand ran up her leg, leaning forward, mouth level with her belly button. He nuzzled her flat little belly while cupping her slender calves, running a finger behind her knees around to the inner thigh and up until he was cupping her mound, moving his hand gently back and forth in a silent signal to widen her stance.

"Open up for me a bit," he breathed against her belly. 

Unsteadily, Rey took her foot off his thigh and stood with her legs slightly apart. He kept an arm braced around her back so she wouldn't fall. Rose-scented musk rose from her, Rey's perfume mixed with arousal. He could clearly smell it, coming from the thatch of dark, colored hair between her thighs.

Never had a smell been so welcoming. Gently, Kylo pressed a finger into her and nearly wept with relief and fear. She was wet, all right. His finger was coated with moisture as he penetrated her carefully. But not wet enough to take him, not yet. And she was god-awful tight.

Her little cunt closed around his finger like a wet, soft vise. He probably gently with his finger, withdrawing so he could spread some of the moisture around her opening. Kylo was operating by touch alone, carefully watching her face. When his finger brushed against her clitoris, she gave a sudden exhalation of breath, her mouth rounding an O

"Do you like that?" he murmured, stroking her carefully, hoping the calluses on his skin weren't hurting her. 

Everything about her little cunt seemed so delicate to him, the tissues incredibly soft. He ran finger over the clitoris again, and her legs trembled. If he hadn't had his hands on her, he wouldn't have felt it.

"Yes," she whispered faintly in the darkness. "I like that. I like it a lot."

Kylo rose slowly from his crouch, wincing against the pain in his crotch as his dick rubbed against the tight, stiff denim, and kissed his way up the center of her chest, up her neck, along her jawline. Soft, reassuring little kisses. Pecks, really. 

With his finger still inside her, he could literally feel what turned her on, and it was just his sheer rotten luck that gentleness did it. With each soft kiss, she turned a little wetter and his finger could slide into her with greater ease. When he nuzzled the skin under her ear, she sighed and moved against his hand, her opening softer now, and warmer.

Kylo moved his other hand from her waist to cup her neck, his fingers moving in the soft-chocolate rose-scented silken strands of her hair. Locks fell over his wrist in a soft cascade.

He kissed her softly, gently, and he sighed into his mouth shifting under his. She showed no signs of actually wanted to get on the bed and get it on. She was enjoying the kissing, the gentle touching, the stroking. 

Was this was gentleman did? Kiss forever? Didn't they ever get to fuck? Kylo felt like steam was coming out of his groin, and his dick hurt.

It hurt to breathe, too. He felt tight bands around his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. The only good thing was that the kisses were working. Kylo stroked her tongue with hiss, and she actually clenched around his finger in a little ripple. Yes! Would it work with her breasts? Jesus, why didn't he have three hands?

One to keep touching the soft, wet folds of her sex, one to cup her neck, leaving one free to touch those delicate, firm breasts. He only had two hands, though, so he was going to have to take one away.

Removing his hand from between her thighs was unthinkable, it would have to be the one cupping her head.

Only he loved the feel of her hair spilling over his hand, fingers gently holding her still for his kiss. He pressed her hander against him, as if to say--- _stay with me. Love me._

And she did, and she didn't pull away when he probed more deeply in her mouth with his tongue. Kylo cupped her breast, loving the silky firmness. She was small, and fit perfectly in the palm of his cupped hand. At that precise moment, Kylo Ren stopped being a man who was turned on by big breasts and switched forever to small, dainty, perfectly shaped breasts topped by delicate pink nipples.

Were they hard yet? Only one way to find out. He gently circled the nipple with his thumb, the velvety texture a soft delight against his rough skin. 

When he touched her nipple, she clenched tightly against the finger deeply embedded inside her and moaned gently in his mouth. A drop of moisture collected into the palm of his hand. Shaking, he pulled his hand out of her and lifted his head.

It took Rey a second for her eyes to open, and she looked, dazed, into his own.

"Undress me," he whispered.

"Okay," she whispered back. 

He had no idea why they were whispering. Maybe it was the semi-dark room or the idea of being secluded in the middle of a snowstorm, or just the intensity of feeling that seemed to fill the room. Hesitantly, Rey reached out and touched his stomach.

Kylo had to stop himself from groaning as she fumbled her way to where his sweater disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. In pulling it out, the backs of her fingers brushed against his hard-on, and they both jumped. Her hands flew away, as if they'd touched something scalding hot. 

Jesus, he had to clench his groin muscles tightly so he wouldn't go off. 

"Sorry about that," she said breathlessly, looking up at him wide-eyed.

Kylo couldn't answer. He knew he was a second from cumming. If she touched him there again, he'd spill and embarrass himself forever. 

"Maybe I should do this part." Breathing heavily, he skin coated with sweat, he stepped back and crossed his arms to pull the sweater off. A second later, his hands were at the button of his jeans and he was shucking them off, together with his briefs, socks and boots.

His cock sprang free. Her eyes widened, and Kylo looked down. He couldn't blame her for the wary look on her face. Fuck, his cock almost scared _him._

It was dark red and swollen, hard as a club, big veins visible, weeping at the tip. He didn't let her get more than a glimpse of him. Cupping both hands around her head, he stepped forward and kissed her, more deeply than ever before, a complete possession of her mouth, while walking her backwards the few steps to the bed.

When the backs of her knees met the mattress, he picked her up and laid her gently in the middle of the bed, following her down. The feel of her under him was mind-blowing. He was operating on blind instinct now, unable to strategize, unable to think in any way.

In a second, he'd opened her thighs with his own, hands cupping her head as he kissed her deeply. There was no waiting possible. Spreading her thighs wider to open her fully, his cock slid along the folds of her sex, then he entered her in one hard thrust, his cock parting the tight tissues, the heat and pressure unbearably exciting.

It felt like he'd stuck his dick into a plug. Prickles erupted all over his body, an explosion of heat and light went off inside his head, an electric wire raced along his spine, and with the next beat of his heart, he was cumming on long, hard streams that made him shake all over. It was totally unstoppable, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Every muscle inside his body clenched, and he shook and groaned as he exploded inside her. Though he was incapable of thinking clearly, at some deep level he realized he could bite her in his excitement, so he took his mouth from hers and buried in his excitement, so he took his mouth from hers and buried his face in that cloud of hair, the smell of roses prolonging his spasms. 

It felt like he came forever, shuddering and groaning, as every drop of liquid in his body came spurting out of his cock. 

He was holding on to her hips in a death grip, pushing with his toes, grinding into her so he could be as deep in her as he could, and simply hung on while he exploded, heart beating double time, breathing pumping in and out of his lungs at the end of a fifteen-mile run.

Sweat poured out of him and plastered her to him. It took ages before he was able to settle down again. When he got his breath---and his brains---back, and took stock, his heart sank. Kylo lay sprawled on Rey, making no effort to keep some of his weight off her, though he outweighed her by a hundred pounds.

She was sticky everywhere from his sweat and the gallons of cum it felt like he'd poured into her. Their groins were wet, and he knew cum had seeped down to stain the pretty flowered sheets. He was known for his stamina but tonight it was as if he was fifteen years old again and green.

He hadn't even lasted a whole minute---he'd cum the instant he'd entered her. The explosive climax had wiped out most of his memory, but he knew one incontrovertible fact. Rey hadn't cum. Man, he'd fucked up, but good. 

* * *

Well, she'd asked for it. Rey lay under Kylo's heavy weight and tried hard to breathe without wheezing. The man literally weighed a ton. She tried to quietly expand her lungs and contemplated the etiquette of the situation. She needed oxygen and some space. How could she do this without sounding rude? Would it be okay to push at his shoulders to in that he should get off her?

Again, would it sound rude? How soon after sex was it okay to cuddle next to someone? And of course, the big was question--was he even a cuddler?

He actually didn't look like much of a cuddler to her. He'd been grim and mainly quiet all evening. Most cuddlers were warm and chatty. Maybe he was the kind of man who had sex, rolled off the woman, then got up, the saddest kind of lover there was.

The kind who left solitude and melancholy behind in the bed. She'd known a few of those in her time, sadly. They were always a major disappointment. Always.

What Rey liked most about sex was the sense of closeness. The feeling that, for this small moment in time, she wasn't alone for once. She liked touching and being touched, affectionate words whispered in the ear, even if they were only true for the moment. Even a little human warmth was better than none.

And that was basically what she wanted from Kylo, though she knew sex would have to come before. She'd never really enjoyed sex all that much---though the last time she'd slept with a man had been so long ago she almost didn't remember what it was even like. But she did enjoy the afterwards.

Quietly lying in the darkness with a man's arms around her, listening to the comforting thumb of another human heart. Right now, his was thumping triple time.

It must have been a doozy of a climax because he's shaken and groaned and panted, almost as if he were in severe pain. He was also as hot as a radiator. If nothing else, the quickie sex had rid her of the deep chill that she'd felt before. 

Kylo Ren was like a huge, heavy electric blanket. Hesitantly, Rey lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder, wondering if she's even have the nerve to push at it. She was instantly distracted by the feel of him under her fingers. There didn't seem to be any give in at all. The shoulder muscle was dense, ridged, hard as steel.

She stroked the heavy muscle uncertainly, and was surprised when he took her hand off his shoulder and pressed it to his mouth. 

He kissed her palm first, then the back of her hand, as if they were at a ball instead of lying together, his penis still inside her. She shifted slightly and---

"You're still, um...."

"Hard?" he supplied. He was lying with his cheek on her hair, close enough that the hot puffs of breath against her temple ruffled her hair. 

His mouth was an inch from her ear, and the deep voice, so close that it felt as if he were speaking inside her head, sent shivers down her very spine. "Yeah. Oh yeah, I haven't begun to be anywhere close to finished with you."

He levered himself up on his muscled forearms and looked down at her. His features were blurry in the dim light, the whites of his eyes and his teeth against his pale skin. His big hands clasped the sides of her head and he bent down to kiss her, lightly, mouth moving gently on hers. He lifted his mouth for a moment and tilted her head slightly so that he could kiss her from another angle.

Sweet yet soft kisses. First-date kisses. A post-sex cuddling kiss except it wasn't post sex. They were still having sex. Sort of.

He was still iron-hard inside her, but he wasn't moving. The only thing he was moving was his mouth on hers. His kisses were warm, deep, a soft gliding of his mouth on hers. It was very easy for her to lose herself in them, particularly now that she could finally breathe again.

He lifted his head once more, his gaze piercing in the dimness. "Are you okay?" he whispered, his mouth an inch from hers. "Did I hurt you? Please, tell me I didn't."

Rey smiled at that, pushing back a lock of his black hair that had fallen over his face. "You seem to think that I'm some fragile, cream-puff or something." She shook her head, her hair rasping faintly against the pillowcase. "I can assure you that I'm not."

He blinked. In an instant his expression changed utterly. The faint lines of kindness and anxiety around his eyes disappeared and his face tightened, nostrils flaring. 

The heat in his eyes was visible even in the semi-darkness. "Oh, you are, Rey." His voice was husky, pure sex. "You're a beautiful cream-puff, and I could you right up. All over."

There was no mistaking in his meaning. Unbidden, an sudden image shot straight to the most primitive part of Rey's brain. She saw herself spread out on the bed, Kylo's dark head between her thighs, his big hands holding her thighs apart, his head-of-hair bobbing up and down slightly as his tongue lapped at her clit over and over until she screamed only for him to keep going until she was withering underneath. 

The image was unsettling. No, not unsettling---arousing. Unmistakably. Her vagina tightened around his cock at the though. Immediately, he thickened and lengthened inside her. 

Her startled eyes met his. "You like that thought, do you?" he said, his voice deep and low. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth. "It turns you on when you think about me eating your pussy, does it?

"Yes, well...I-I must like it." Her voice was breathless.

She was completely distracted by what was going on inside her body. Each pulse of his cock brought a little tug of her inner muscles tightening around him. Amazing.

That had never happened to her before---that intimate link so intense she could feel the changes in the man's body inside hers. Rey was not only turned on by the very thought of Kylo Ren going down on her, she was also turned on by _him._

While her head had whirled with her neurotic, grief-stricken thoughts, and she'd been reticent and hesitant---her body had raced right on ahead without her and become aroused all on its own. There was no question of it. Now that she was really paying close attention, and her head had caught up with her body, she realized she was more turned-on than she'd ever been in her entire life.

Kylo Ren might be grim-faced and not the world's greatest conversationalist, but her body didn't give a damn because he was perhaps the sexiest man alive. The most.... _male_ man she'd ever seen.

Everything about his body was a source of intense, bewildering pleasure. The sheer size of him, the hard muscles, the thing patch of wiry chest hair brushing against her nipples with each breath they took, the thick, iron-hard cock buried inside of her......

God, just the very feel of him.....

"As much as I'd love to go down on you right now, honey," he said in that dark, smoky voice. "but I'd have to pull out first, and they'd have to hold a gun to my head to make me do that right now."

His big hands slid down her sides to hold her lips as he began moving inside her. Long, slow, deep glides that filled her with an intense heat.

"No way," he whispered. "That's for later, when I can think of something else besides this."

He lunged into her, a heavy thrust that hook him even more deeply inside her. Rey's arms had to stretch to hold him. Her hands slid over the sleek hard muscles of his arms without finding a grip. Frustrated, she hooked her hands under his arms, palms flat against his massive deltoids, and held on for dear life.

She could feel the intense play of muscles as he move on her, in her. His long, hard body was one huge erogenous zone, from the rough-haired legs holding her own legs open to the big hands holding her head still for his kiss. Everything about him was so utterly different from her that every touch, every kiss was brand new territory. 

The kiss deepened, turned biting and hard. She gasped for breath as her vagina fluttered again. He felt it. 

He felt everything that was happening to her. He knew what was happening to her body almost before she did. Kylo levered himself up on his arms, lifting his upper body away from hers completely. His chest was so wide it seemed to fill her entire field of vision, the pectoral muscles sharply delineated. 

Rey stared hungrily at the massive biceps, hard and perfect. Her hands itched to reach out and touch him---touch all that hard, sculpted muscle. 

She reached out tentatively to stroke his chest, and his entire long frame shuddered. His eyes burned deeply into hers.

"Look at us, Rey," he commanded softly. "Watch what we are together."

Startled, Rey looked down at their bodies. The hair rose along the nape of her neck and along her forearms. She'd never see anything as erotic as their bodies joined together by their sexes. Her hands were clutching his biceps, her skin very pale against his. She watch the hard muscles of his stomach clench with his long, slow thrusts.

Their pubic hairs intermingled at the deepest point of his glide into her, when she felt every inch of him inside her, black hairs intermingling with her pale ones. 

When he pulled his cock out, it glistened from the semen he'd jetted into her and her own juices. With each glide into her, Rey's arousal increased. 

She watched them making love, the room silent and hushed, his thrusts slow and regular. Any thought of cold was completely banished from her system. Heat tore from her groin as if she'd stepped in front of a burning furnace. The heart was intense, inside and out, prickles of heat and arousal running through her system. Her very veins felt incandescent.

Rey was beginning that long, luscious slide into climax when a drop of sweat fell from his temple onto her chest. It electrified her. 

The slow, controlled lovemaking was exacting a price. His stomach muscles were so tight that she could see each ridge of muscles there. Rey slid a hand from his biceps---held so tautly the sinews were visible---to his back and felt his control even there, in the hard, tightly clenches tone muscles of his shoulders. 

He looked as if he were a statue carved of dark marble rather than a living, breathing man of flesh and bone. The knowledge of how tightly he was hanging onto his self-control pushed her right over the edge. 

With a sharp cry, Rey erupted into a contractions, clenching tightly around him, shaking with the force of her climax.

"Oh my God," he muttered, as a shudder went through him. "Fuck, I want to feel you cum all over my cock, yes, like that! Fuck!"

He lowered himself to her with a low groan, dropping his hands to her thighs. He lifted them high and pushed them wide apart, so that she was completely open to him and began thrusting hard and fast. His movements kept her on that knife's edge of climax way longer than was normal for her as pulses of red-hot pleasure coursed through her system.

She was holding on to him as tightly as a person lost in a storm holds on to a tree trunk. Just as her climax was winding down, and she could finally breathe again, he turned his head on the pillow, moving his lips to her ear.

"More," he whispered. "I want more, Rey. I want this---I _want_ you, all of you! Come on, baby, fucking give yourself to me!"

Goose bumps rose along her flesh as he inserted his hand into the small of her back and lifted her even more into his thrusts. He had changed the angle of his movements, and somehow the base of his cock was rubbing against her clitoris. 

Electric shocks ran through her system as waves of intense pleasure almost too great to be borne coursed through her. For the first time in her life, Rey became a purely physical being, all of her senses turned inward to the pleasurable tumult happening inside of her body. It seemed as if she came with her entire body, not just her sex.

All of her limbs shook as she held on to him, feeling with her thighs and arms the dense play of muscles as he moved inside her. Eyes closed, head titled back, she rode out the waves of pleasure until there was literally no more left. 

There was nothing left in her, not even the strength to hold onto Kylo. Her arms and legs fell open, and her breathing slowed.

Kylo immediately stopped and looked down at her form. "Rey? Rey? Sweetheart?"

Oh God, he was still iron-hard inside of her, but there was no way she could participate. Every single muscle had gone completely limp. It was even hard to keep her eyes open. She was mentally and physically exhausted. 

Dimly, she realized he'd pulled out of her. He turned with her in his arms, using his hard shoulder as a pillow, she dropped into a dreamless sleep. Kylo smiled. She was the most beautiful thing---even when drained completely from having sex.

"Just sleep, baby." he cooed, nuzzling against her affectionately. "I'll still be here when you wake, I promise."

And it was true, as was the promised he had made to her all those years ago. _I'll come back for you, sweetheart. I promise._

This was how it was _always_ meant to be between them and Kylo aka Ben Solo could still hardly believe it himself that he was actually here in this mansion having the most mind-blowing sex, while also sleeping in the same bed with the girl he had loved since he was seventeen years old.

It made him realize that his journey to get here, though it had been hard at times---was totally worth it in the end.

The only problem was she could never know it was truly him. That he was still her Ben Solo and that felt like a knife directly to the chest. Ben hated lying unless it was absolutely necessary for his survival, but what was worse was he hated _lying_ to the only person that he cared about. 


	9. Chapter 9

Dopheld's VISA was good for a first-class flight across the Atlantic with Air France. _L'Espace Premiere._ The name alone was classy. Hux relaxed in the comfortable extra large seat that tipped back into a bed and supped a flute of excellent chilled dry champagne. The real thing, not the warm carbonated piss served back in cattle class.

Good old Dopheld. His credit card and name would fly to Atlanta, where he would disappear from the face of the earth. Hux lifted his glass in salute. _Here's to you, old boy._

Hux looked around the first-class cabin, with its plush carpeting and jewel-like colors. It was the first time he'd ever flown first class, but by God, it wouldn't be the last that's for damn sure. He would make _sure_ of it. For the first time since Objua, Hux relaxed and started planning the next few days.

His head was clear, and he could see what had to be done with unusual clarity. He was spectacularly comfortable, well fed, a soft pure new wool blanket spread over his knees.

His first-class cabin was like a little sanctuary of soft colors, soft voices, and pretty women. Even the air smelled of luxury. No stench of diesel and unwashed carpet that he'd always associated with flying. In the air was the expensive colognes of the other passengers, the heady smell of the _boeuf en croute_ , they'd had for dinner, the Burgundy and lemon tart, topped off with the Napoleon brandy served in crystal snifters. 

No wonder the rich made all the smart moves. Who couldn't think smart with pretty stewardess vying to serve you fabulous food and wine, slipping perfumed pillows under your head, wrapping you in the softest blankets? Even the noise of the engines was muted up here in first class.

Hux had flown around the world, mainly in cargo planes, which was as far from first class as it gets. He remembered being airlifted from Ramstein to Jakarta. Fifteen bone-breaking, freezing hours strapped into metal benches against the bulkhead, pissing into jars.

 _Never ever again._ Fuck no. Hux quickly drained honey-colored liquid from the flute. 

"Encore du champagne, monsieur?" A stewardess appeared immediately and topped his flute again with a wink and smile.

She was tall, blonde, with up-tilted brown eyes. He was on a mission, but when he finally got his diamonds back, he'd follow up the next time he got a smile like that. There were only five passengers in first class, all businessmen, and they were finally settling in for the night. The sky outside the portholes had long ago turned dark, then black.

They'd been wined and dined, and now they put away their laptops, folded their newspapers, took their shoes off, and one by one, converted the seats into beds.

Hux waited until the lights dimmed overhead, the stewardess retired behind the curtains and his fellow passengers were asleep. Only then did he take out of his pocket three sheets of paper---photocopies of a smudged photograph, a wrinkles press clipping and a digital photograph. The first two had been folded and unfolded thousands of times, and the images weren't clear, but they gave Hux all the information that he needed.

He looked first at the digital photograph, taken by one of his men, Enric Pryde, in Freetown. Enric had stayed behind in the capital to stock up on ammo and was just ready to get back to their base came when he saw Kylo Ren, making his rounds, asking about them.

He took Ren's photo and headed out to Objua, where Hux and the rest of the team were waiting for him. Ren in Sierra Leone was bad news, and Hux had pushed the raid on the village forward. 

He hadn't been expecting Ren to make it inland as fast as had. His fists clenched around the crystal glass of Glenfiddich. Damn! If Ren hadn't found a way to get upriver so fast, he'd have come across smoking ruins in Obuja, and Hux's men would still be alive and filthy rich.

Hux touched the smooth sheet, circling Ren's head with the tip of his forefinger, letting the hatred and rage run through his system. Ren had taken what was Hux's and he was going to pay. But first things first, Hux had to find him. He opened the other two sheets of paper and smoothed them out. The photocopy on the right was a press clipping, the paper had yellowed with age. 

It had been cut so that only the photograph and a portion of the caption showed. The only indication of the newspaper's name was...…. _ville Gazette._ The date was October 12, 2000.

The photo showed a young girl at a piano in a concert hall. The caption read: REY KENOBI GAVE A PIANO RECITAL AT WILLIAMS HALL THURSDAY EVENING.

The other was a standard high-school portrait. There were millions of photos like this floating around the U.S. The girl was the same as the girl in the news photo. She was a looker, that was for sure. The clipping showed a profile almost hidden by long dark hair. It could have been anyone. But the high-school picture was full-face, and you had to blink to make sure she was in fact real.

Auburn hair, gorgeous. A young softer, Keira Knightley. That was in 2000. Twelve years ago exactly. Of course in twelve years the girl could have gained fifty pounds, lost her hair, lost her teeth. Died of cancer. Had a kid in a year. Started turning tricks. A lot of stuff could happen in twelve years. 

Hux didn't care one way or another. But that fucker Ren cared. Oh yeah, he cared. It was the first thing he brought out to look at in the morning and the last thing he looked at before turning in.

You don't do that for anything less than an obsession or for love. Hux had watched women trip in and out of Ren's bed and leave nothing behind. Ren sure didn't keep their photographs as a keepsake. He didn't keep anything as far as Hux could see. He was careful not to get caught staring the photographs, but Hux knew how to wire a webcam as well as anyone else. He'd even caught Ren jerking off a few times to it, twice in fact, one hand holding a photograph, the other beating his cock.

Photocopying the two photographs had been insurance. Hux had, had a sixth sense that one day he'd need something to hold over Ren, and as usual, his hunch was right.

Ren had this diamonds, and Hix wanted them back. They were rightfully his. He'd fought hard for them, he'd bled for them, and they were fucking his. He was perfectly willing to put the knife to Ren to out where he'd stashed them. But Ren, like all Special Forces soldiers, had been inoculated against torture.

Not only that---he was a tough son of a bitch. It was entirely possible this heart would give out first. 

But everyone has a weak spot, and Hux was holding Kylo's. A man who jerked off to a woman's photograph for twelve years probably had feelings for that same woman. And might be willing to exchange $20 million dollars worth in diamonds for her. 

* * *

Every Christmas morning for the last six years, Rey had woken up with tears drying on her face. She didn't remember crying during the night, but she would wake up with wet cheeks, swollen eyes and a feeling of oppression so great that it was as if a giant boulder were sitting on her chest.

But not this Christmas morning. She'd slept deeply and well, completely warm in her bed, though she kept the temperature in the house low at night.

Most mornings she woke up slightly chilled, but not now. Right now, even though she was naked, she was warm down to her bones. She came awake in low, swooping stages, a degree of consciousness at a time. By the time she realized that she had, had fabulous sex last night with an amazing lover, that he was the source of the glow of heat under the covers and that her pillow was undeniably hard but somehow comfortable shoulder, she was smiling.

She never though it would be possible to smile on Christmas morning ever again, but she definitely was. Her situation hadn't changed at all. She'd lost the last of her family two months ago. 

She had a mountain of debt so crushing it would take her twenty-years just to start to get out from under it. Her family's house was falling down around her ears. It was all still here, but she didn't care. Somehow, she was able to let those thoughts recede, far far away, like a long, dark cloud low on the horizon on a sunny day.

Right now, she was happy. Extremely happy. 

"I heard that," a voice rumbled under her ear. 

One big hand moved in her hair, long fingers delicately massaging her scalp. The other lay in the small of her back, heavy, an intense source of heat.

"You heard me smile?" she asked, charmed at the very thought.

"Uh-huh." That big hand moved down from the small of her back to smooth over her bottom. Nerve endings sparkled to life as he lazily moved his palm over her buttocks. 

There was utter silence. Rey didn't know what time it was and quite frankly, she didn't care, but judging from the quality of the stone gray light outside the window, it was probably early morning over a blustery, snowy day. It must have snowed again, during the night. Snow lay heavy on the branches of the big oak tree outside of her window and was inches thick on the windowsill.

It absorbed all sounds. There was utter silence outside, not even a car passing by. They could have been the last humans in the entire world. Rey didn't care about that, either.

"Merry Christmas," Kylo said, his voice so low that she didn't know whether she'd heard him talking above her head or whether she'd heard the words rumbled deep in his chest.

"Merry Christmas," she answered, the words muffled against his chest. 

Yes, indeed, it was in fact the best Christmas morning in many, many years, and it was getting merrier by the second. His hand was covering both buttocks now, smoothing slowly, warmly over her skin. Such a simple thing--a strong male hand caressing her gently, and yet the affect was incredible. 

Rey could actually feel blood rushing to her sex. She could feel herself growing moist and slightly swollen. Oh God! His hand was now gently probing between her thighs from behind, his fingers touching her moist nether parts.

Soft pressure and her legs just naturally opened. He inserted a hairy thigh between hers and opened her right leg so far he had unimpeded access to her with his hand. 

And he used it, too. A long finger touched her opening softly, spreading moisture around, moving so slowly she had ample time to object if she wanted to. The very thought crossed her mind briefly, and she dismissed it as insane. Kylo was causing sensual whiplash. His hand between her thighs was exciting her, arousing her fully. His hand against the back of her head lowered slightly and began lazily massaging her shoulders to the sensitive skin of her nape. 

He must have had some wizard-like knowledge of human---or at least female--anatomy because she could feel herself relaxing by the second under his ministering hand.

Though the touch was light and smoothing, he seemed to be able to reach deep into her muscles, unkink the knots, finding exactly where the stress points were and kneading them into oblivion. All the while igniting a fire between her legs. 

She nearly whimpered when he entered her with one finger and started thrusting slowly, gently. He somehow kept his cool, too. How did he do it?

She was melting by the second, her heart tripping a fast beat, breath speeding up and he was relaxed and calm. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her ear---slow, steady, reassuring. His hands between her thighs somehow followed the beat of his heart. The total excitement generated by the hand between her thighs was starting to edge out the deeply relaxing movements of the other hand when he gripped the back of her neck lightly and raised her up further on his chest.

His mouth covered hers in a slow, deep kiss that turned the blood in her veins to warm honey. A shift of his legs, and she was somehow straddling him, fully open to the broad head of his cock, which she could feel brushing against her sex, hot and hard. 

He pulled his mouth away slightly, though she could still feel the heat of his breath as he spoke. "Stop me if you don't want this...if you don't want..... _me._ "

He had nudged his cock into her opening. He hadn't entered fully yet, the huge bulbous head was stretching the tissues of her opening. Even penetrating her that small amount was exciting. _Me? Not want this? Not want....you? Never in a million-zillion years, Ren._

He circled his cock, stretching her even more. "Don't.....stop, Ren." Rey gasped. 

"Good," he murmured, covering her mouth again with his. The kiss was long and languid as his entry of her. 

Ass if he had all the time in the world, his tongue stroked hers while he entered her slowly, slowly. God, it seemed to last forever. She'd almost forgotten how incredibly big he was.

It should have hurt---there'd been very little foreplay---but, incredibly, her body was ready for him. She'd slept half-on-half off Kylo, enclosed in his arms. While she slept, her body had been readying itself for his. Finally, he slid into her fully, down to the thick base of his cock, stretching her out completely.

He didn't move, he simply kept kissing her, exploring her mouth leisurely. Rey sighed into his mouth, shifting so that he was somehow closer, one hand in the warmth of his soft black hair, the other flat against his broad chest.

His hand tightened on her neck as he explored her mouth in rough, deep strokes of his tongue. Inside a minute, his cock was echoing the strokes of his tongue, long and deep and slow. Being on top usually gave a woman control over the lovemaking, but Rey wasn't controlling anything. She didn't have to do anything, thinking anything at all.

All she had to do was lie in his arms and let herself be ravished, let the slow strokes of his tongue and his cock in her spread honeyed warmth throughout her system.

One large hand pressed down on her backside as he lifted himself up into her, driving slowly, deeply, as steady as metronome, like a warm, steel machine. Time spun out in the quiet room, the only sounds their breathing and the slight creak of the bedsprings. 

After a time that could have been ten minutes or an hour, the angle of his strokes changed, deepened, speeded up. The hot pleasure that had spread throughout her body pooled in her groin and turned in a flash into blinding heat. His grip on her backside tightened as the strokes became sharper, faster, nudging upward at an angle that hit all her pleasure spots. 

* * *

The creaking increased, the rhythm became faster. He wasn't withdrawing almost all the way out to slide back in, as he had in the beginning. Now they were short, hard strokes that created a heat so intense it prickled inside her veins. A moan made it past Rey's throat and came out into his mouth as she gently bit his tongue. 

It was as if she'd kicked him into another gear. He jolted and made a noise deep inside his chest. The thrusts were faster now, harder than before, and she was burning up from the inside with them.

She could feel the steely muscles of his belly and thighs rippling as he worked her. She could barely breathe, the heat was so intense, boiling up from where they were joined to spread throughout her entire body. She lifted away from his kiss and opened her eyes briefly, then closed them again, little sparks of light moving against her inner eyelids. He had been watching her so intently through slitted eyes she couldn't bear it, his gaze seemed to ear into her very soul.

Kylo bent his head to kiss her neck and nipped her lightly with his teeth. The tiny pinprick of pain set her off.

"Oh!" she cried out, holding on to him tightly as her vagina convulsed sharply. Somehow Kylo found the rhythm of her contractions and prolonged the orgasm--forever it seemed.

Just as they started dying down, his motions became rougher, less controlled, faster and impossibly, he swelled even more inside her. With a huge groan, he locked her to him with a strong arm across her back, embedded as deeply as he could go and exploded inside her. Rey opened her eyes again to find his face contracted, almost in pain, teeth clenched tightly against the sounds that wanted to escape.

Inside her, she could feel the jets of his semen as he came in huge spurts. She'd never felt anything like that before---as if his climax was hers, too. The jets were so strong that she had another little climax on the wings of her first.

He felt that, too. His jaw muscles clenched as she tried to hold still for her. Finally, it was over. Rey's head sank back down to Kylo's shoulder, and all her muscles loosened.

His hands loosened their hold on her began caressing again, lightly. More to relax than to arouse. Arousal was impossible anyway. There was nothing left in her to excite, all her cells had turned into little puddles of protoplasm. 

Slowly, Kylo withdrew from her. Amazingly, he was still semi-erect, though Rey had no idea where he could go with it. He could forget about her. She was already starting that long, lusciously free fall back into a deep and soundly sleep. That was twice in less than twelve hours. She had no idea where Ren got his stamina from, but she was equally impressed.

"Rey? Sweetheart?"

"Mmm?" Rey had no desire to talk or do anything other than lie bonelessly on him, feeling his hand moving gently through her hair. She might never get out of bed ever again.

"It snowed all night. I need to shove the snow on your drive and paving; otherwise, it'll turn to ice."

"No," she mumbled. He wanted to get out of bed? Rey held him more tightly. "Later."

"Oh believe me, honey, I'd rather stay in bed with you all day, but it needs to be done." She felt him kiss her hair and move out her grasp. He then threw the covers back just long enough to get out of bed, then covered her back up immediately.

The instant Kylo left the bed, it turned cold under the covers. For the first time, Rey was aware of how wet her groin was with her juice's and his. Kylo tucked under the comforter around her shoulders, his hand lingering for a moment, then she heard him go to the bathroom. He came out and a few moments later, the door closed quietly behind him.

He must have dressed though she hadn't heard. He was the quietest man she'd ever known. Rey wanted to watch him dress, she wanted to see him naked in the daylight, but her eyes simply wouldn't open.

Her breathing slowed, and she drifted off into sleep as if into the arms of a very dear beloved friend. When she woke again, the quality of the light outside the window had changed. Even through the overcast she could tell it wasn't early-morning light anymore. Rey lay in bed, thoroughly relaxed. 

The little extra nap had done her good, and she felt refreshed, almost.....happy. _Let's not go overboard,_ she thought wryly. Some would even say she'd made a huge mistake and was headed for trouble. Sleeping with your boarder was not a good idea on so many levels that it wasn't funny. When the affair ended, it was possible that he'd look for quarters somewhere else, and she'd have lost a very good boarder in exchange for some sex.

 _Some very good sex,_ it was true, but still. Something impinged at the edge of consciousness, and suddenly she was aware of a regular noise that had been in the background a long time, coming from outside.

Even while she'd napped there'd' been the noise, she realized. What was it? A regular, scraping noise. Rey threw back the covers and dived for her dressing gown hanging from a hook on the bathroom door, hopping barefoot gingerly to her slippers. It was fucking _cold!_

Pulling on the dressing gown, she made for the widow but stopped in her tracks when she passed the mirror on the chest of drawers. Rey hardly recognized herself. Her hair was a wild mass around her face, flying in every direction. She looked rumpled and unkempt and.....incredibly satisfied. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth looked slightly swollen from Kylo's endless kisses.

There was a tiny mark on her throat that could only be---a hickey. My God, she hadn't had one of those since high school. She was sure that Kylo hadn't really meant to give her one, but she distinctly remembered him sucking at her skin while he was cumming. 

The very memory of that moment, of feeling him swell inside her, then explode, brought a bright flush to her face and neck and had her clenching her thighs. She could still feel him inside of her. Seeing her face in the mirror, Rey thought she looked like a woman still making love to a man who made her senses run amuck. 

She would have been appalled if it weren't for the fact that it had been so long since she'd seen her own face as anything but pale and pinched with worry. 

Now all she needed was a flower behind her ear, and she could have been a carefree tourist on vacation in Hawaii with her lover. The swishing sound continued. Curious, Rey glanced outside the window and saw him, methodically shoveling snow and doing such a superb job at it.

Somehow he'd found where she kept the shovel in the garage and had cleared a path almost to the street. It was a long path and the snow was deep. He must have shifted several tons of snow by now. He'd not only cleared the walkway to the street, but he'd also cleared the driveway and found the bag of rock salt in the garage and strewn it over the paving stones so that it wouldn't ice over. 

It would have taken little Randy, Rose's nephew, at least five hours to do that job half as well, and it would have cost her $30. 

As if there was an invisible threat connecting them, he suddenly stopped and looked up. Meeting his dark gaze was like a punch to the stomach. She raised a hand in greeting. He deserved so much more than that. He'd done a hard and disagreeable task for her without even asking.

Rey threw up the window sash and stuck her head out into the freezing cold mid-morning air. "Thank you! Come in now, and I'll fix you a warm breakfast, you must be freezing out here!" Her breath formed a cloud around her.

He only had that light denim jacket on and it was no match for the bitter cold. He didn't even have gloves on! Rey made a mental note to buy him warm winter gloves as a thank-you for shoveling the snow. She'd love to buy him a new jacket as well, but her budget wouldn't stretch that far, and he probably wouldn't accept it.

He seemed like a _very_ proud man who wouldn't like to be reminded that he couldn't afford a winter wardrobe. He might accept the gloves, though. 

Kylo waved a hand at her to get back inside. "Close that window, woman! I don't want you catching a cold! I'll be finished in a little while." 

He waited until she pushed the sash back down, then bent to his task again. Rey watched through the window pane for a moment, admiring his economy of movement. He seemed to apply exactly the right effort for the job, movements regular and smooth. 

Suddenly, she flashed on the memory of another moment, when his movements were regular and smooth---inside her, pumping with regularity of a machine. The memory sent a heat wave so intense through her veins that her pale skin tingled, and she knew she was blushing furiously. This man was no fool. He was observant and perceptive.

Her skin was like a beacon signaling what he was thinking and feeling. She was remembering the sex, and it was completely out of control. Amazing. Normally, Rey had massive amounts of self-control and was always very cool and in command, the complete mistress of herself with men. Kylo, apparently, was the only exception. Well, she was going to have to learn fast how to deal with her wayward thoughts because Kylo was going to be coming in very soon, and she had to be able to deal with him without turning red every other second.

Half an hour later, Rey had showered quickly and cleaned up after last night's dinner. In the shower, she had resolutely thought of her bank account, the boiler and the last payment of Toby's funeral, which was due and would wipe her out financially for a couple of months. All things guaranteed to depress her spirits. 

She needed that, because when she started washing herself, she was constantly reminded of how she'd spent the night.

Washing herself between the legs had required particularly disheartening thoughts before she soaped up, she could smell Kylo and sex in the steamy cabinet and could still _feel_ him between her legs, where was slightly sore.

So while she dressed, went downstairs and proceeded to clean up, she was giving herself little pep talks about how she could remain cool when Kylo walked back in. She could, she definitely could, why----

"Hello."

Oh God, all it took was one word in that deep voice, and her stomach muscles clenched and every ounce of blood that wasn't pooling between her thighs was rushing to her face. He'd come in so quietly she hadn't even heard him, which was a miracle considering that the garage door's hinges needed some serious oiling.

"Hi." Rey winced inwardly. Her voice sounded strangled, and her face could probably substitute for a stoplight.


	10. Chapter 10

Kylo was standing very still, just inside of the door, the accumulated snow on his clothes starting to melt and drop onto the floor. They stared at each other, Rey feeling flushed and awkward. What was this? What kind of morning were they having? A thank-you-for-the-bang-ma'am-and-I'll-be-moseying-on-up-to-my-room-after-breakfast kind of morning?

Was it a one-night stand, what they'd had? Were they starting a....a romantic relationship, and how awkward would that be with a boarder? It was only when Rey saw that his hands were almost blue from the cold that she flushed even more deeply, only this time with shame. 

Manners and concern for others had been drummed into her from childhood, and here she was, dithering about how she should react to Kylo, while he waited patiently, hungry and tired. He must be freezing, he hadn't had any breakfast yet, he'd done her an enormous favor, and she was obsessed with what to call what they were doing.

Rey held out a hand. "Here, let me take your jacket, it's dripping. You must be freezing! Go on up an take a shower and when you come down, I'll have a nice, hot breakfast waiting for you when you're done."

He then walked up to her, calmly, so close she started to taken an instinctive step back before she stopped herself. 

He looked down at her, smiling slightly. He'd noticed her instinctive movement. Damn the man, he noticed everything. "That sounds great. I'll definitely look forward to that, but first---" He bent down and covered her mouth with his. 

He didn't touch her anywhere but with his mouth, a source of infinite pleasure and warmth. Cold was coming off him and his clothes in waves, but he seemed to be able to infuse warmth in her through his mouth alone. His tongue stroked hers lazily, as if she had all the time in the world. Kisses have a development, just like novels or movies. They usually start out slow and rise to a crescendo, usually becoming harder, more penetrating, involving the body and not just the mouth.

In Rey's experience, kisses usually led to sex or at the very least, the promise of sex. This was the first kiss she'd ever had that didn't seem to be going anywhere.

It just sort of meandered pleasantly all on its own. His tongue and lips plucked at hers, over and over again, as if he'd be perfectly content to stay there all day, kissing her gently, touching her only with his mouth.

It was summer's day by the riverbanks kind of kiss, completely different from the intense sex of last night. It was easy to drift with a kiss like that, lightly skimming the waves of consciousness. Rey stopped being conscious of breathing or of standing slightly on the balls of her feet to reach his mouth.

It was Rey who bumped it up to the next level, or at lest she tried to. She wanted a deeper taste of him and rose even higher on her feet, clutching the front of his jacket. The shock of encountering patches of ice on his jacket though brought her back to reality with a thump. She lowered herself back down on her heels and stepped back. They looked at each other. 

He had a slight flush along his high cheekbones, and his mouth was wet. Rey didn't dare look down.

Dazed, she said, "You, um, really need to get out of that jacket right now."

"Here." Kylo unzipped the denim jacket and handed it over to her. He had a faint smile on his face, or at least the grooves in his cheeks were deeper than usual. "And at this point, I'm really looking forward to that hot, breakfast."

She just stood there in silence, holding the soaping wet jacket that felt more like a solid block of ice. 

"Rey?"

She started. "Oh! Um, go on up, now. Take your shower." She then made shooing movements with her hand. 

Kylo inclined his head gravely, turned around, and took the stairs three at a time. Rey stood there and watched him go up. She knew she shouldn't. She knew that. It had been bad enough standing there staring like a dummy when he'd smiled. Well, sort of smiled. 

When he lost that grim look he became even more incredibly attractive. Her heart had definitely thumped and skipped a few beats. _Note to self for the future,_ she thought. _Never ever make Kylo Ren laugh._ She'd have a damn heart attack. Even just watching him go up the stairs--- _God almighty!_

Desperately looking for something to distract her from thoughts of the wonderful view as he'd gone up the stairs, she turned the radio on, thinking to catch the news. The new was usually pretty much a downer. Today, though, all she could catch was static, so she had to concentrate really, really hard on cooking them breakfast. By the time Kylo came back down again, Rey had herself in hand. 

She'd given herself a little pep talk---reminding herself what would happen to her bank account if he decided to leave after the first month because he couldn't deal with a slack-jawed, drooling landlady had helped a lot. 

Rey had taken three whole minutes to breathe deeply from her diaphragm, repeating " _ommmmm_ "under her breath, just like her yoga teacher had taught her. 

So she was cool, calm and collected when Kylo made his appearance in the doorway. Except for the fact that the man messed massively with her head, Rey was so incredibly grateful for the company. Without Kylo, she knew how she'd have spent her day. Going over accounts, truing to add up the un-addupable and come out with very little profit in the end. An exercise of futility. 

Maybe doing the laundry. Finishing the new Janet Evanovich, skipping lunch. Early dinner on a tray, watching TV. In bed before nine. A bad night's sleep, full of ghosts and nightmares. Waking up to a long, lonely day.

Instead now, _now_ she had company. And not just _any_ company, either. No, she had an incredibly attractive man who said interesting things, when she could get him to talk. And when she couldn't....well, there was always the eye-candy aspect of it. Kylo sat down, and Rey started delivering food to the table, on an industrial level.

Toasted homemade bread with butter and homemade orange marmalade and blackcurrant jelly. Scones. Buckwheat pancakes, a fluffy cheese omelet, bacon and whole wheat biscuits, link sausage, fruit salad. Kylo sat, his hands in his lap.

"Please," Rey said. "Dig in and help yourself."

"Not until you come sit down and eat this delicious meal with me." 

She sat and watched, pleased, as he puled food onto his plate an amazing amount, but then he was a big man who'd just done a full morning's work. "You do like your coffee black, right?" 

At his nod, she poured the coffee, happy that she'd splurged in French roast. "Rey, this is great. How come you're not eating?" Kylo frowned.

"I'm eating," Rey protested. "Just not....as much as you." Rey nibbled on her toast, watching him down his fourth slice. 

It gave her such pleasure watchin him. She had out a brilliant red-cotton tablecloth and her red-and-white-porcelain breakfast set. The rich smell of coffee rose to her nostrils, melding with the smells of the roast and jam and omelet and bacon and sausage. It looked like Christmas. It _smelled_ like Christmas. No, it _was_ Christmas. 

Rey sipped her coffee, smiling. "If it's okay with you, I thought we'd have a big breakfast, then have our Christmas meal around six." 

"That sounds like a plan to me." Kylo set her delicate china up down in its saucer without a sound and took her hand. He lifted it to his mouth, brushing his lips across the back. 

Rey could feel the softness of his lips and the slight rasp of his unshaved beard. Kylo's dark brown eyes held hers---hot, molten desire filling them. He wanted her spread out on this table, in her bed---like last night. He wanted her like this, always. Engulfed in him as he worshipped her body, ravished her--- _loved_ her.

He was still processing on the moment when he would finally tell her who he really was---Ben, _her_ Ben and that he had loved her for years and would do so in the years to come. 

_I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, sweetheart. I love you, Rey. I love you._

"I have a few ideas about what we can do in the meantime."

Her heart gave her a huge lurch in her chest. He wasn't grinning suggestively, but there was no doubt what he meant. The heat in his eyes could have melted steel. What she saw there took her very breath away. This was so far off her radar, sitting here on Christmas morning, her hand in the hand of the sexiest man she'd ever seen, both of them thinking of the night before.

Both of them thinking about sex. Both of them thinking that soon--- _very_ soon, they'd be back in bed. He'd felt the little holt in her hand as he'd said the words.

Her hand trembled slightly in his. She couldn't think of a word to say to him. The silence in the house enveloped them as they watched each other. The silence. The silence of the house. The house was _silent._ Completely, utterly still.

"Oh, God, no!" Rey jumped up, all pleasurable thoughts of lovemaking and celebrating Christmas gone, vanished from her head as if they'd never lodged there.

She knew exactly what that silence meant. The heating system gave off a constant low hum, a background noise that became white noise, something you forgot instantly, but it was always there. The utter silence in the house could only mean one thing---the boiler had finally died. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"The boiler," she whispered. "Oh, Kylo, the boiler's just kicked the bucket again, oh my, God, I'm so, so sorry!"

Rey knew exactly what the boiler dying entailed. Mack the Jerk wouldn't come until Monday evening at the earliest, so they had three miserable, painful days to look forward to. 

The house would take about two hours to lose its heat, then the icy fingers of the outside world would reach in and squeeze the house and them, hard. All of today, all of Sunday and all of Monday would be spent in the freezing cold. It meant bundling up with every item of clothing possible, until only the fingertips and nose showed, and they would slowly chill so much that it would hurt. 

It mean huddling around the fireplace, roasting on one side, freezing on the other. Any other part of the house would be so cold it was painful.

Once, she'd actually had to crack the ice in the toilets just to relieve herself. Foolish, foolish Rey, thinking that this Christmas would be any different from past Christmases, hard and lonely.

The light elation she'd had since waking up had completely vanished utterly. Things had seemed.....so different. For the first time in a long while, there was a lot to look forward to--the zing of attraction she hadn't felt in years, a couple of days just lazing around, flirting and having fabulous sex. 

Instead, a couple of grim days trying to just stay alive in the freezing cold was what she had to look forward to.

"Rey, relax," Kylo murmured, and ran a finger down her cheek. 

That's easy for him to say. Though, come to think of it, maybe he knew exactly what it was like to have to huddle for days seeking warmth. He'd fought in the Hindu Kush. She distinctly remembered him saying that. She knew enough geography to know exactly where the Hindu Kush was--the foothills of the Himalayan mountains. So this was something he could do. 

It's just that this wasn't a mission to some godforsaken outback, where hardship was the norm. It was a home he'd paid good money to live in, and he had the right to expect comfort. 

Rey had wanted some lightheartedness back in her life, after so many years of struggle and darkness. She'd been so looking forward to a couple of days of flirtation and lightness and....well, yes, some really good sex from the man sitting across her at this exact moment. 

She'd been planning on drowning him in good food and raiding the Kenobi wine cellar. What good were all those bottles of Syrah and Valpolicella doing down there in the dark?

And instead, here she was, in a repeat of the horrors of the Calrissians. Cardigans pulled out, polite smiles, strangled conversation trying to avoid the stark harsh truth of a freezing home. Kylo studied her features, then turned on his heels. He was leaving. Rey didn't blame him one bit for doing so. 

"Kylo?" It came out a small croak.

He turned to her. This was so hard, after all her childish yearnings. Merry Christmas, indeed. Rey forced herself to stand upright and caught herself twisting her hands. She then let them drop down by her sides. This was hard, yes, but she'd been doing hard for a long, long time now. This should be easy, second nature to her, really.

"Do you---" She had to swallow past the tightness in her throat. "Do you want your money back?" 

She'd surprised him. He looked totally blank for a moment. There was something about his face that told her he wasn't often surprised. Then he frowned in puzzlement. "And why would I want that?"

"Because---because you're going to spend the Christmas weekend in a freezing-cold house. That wasn't what you paid for. I just....I imagine you want to leave."

He searched her features. "You're upset," he said. "So you get a free one." He then turned around again

Rey stood, swaying a little, blinking with surprise, holding her arms around her midriff. Already the temperature had dropped a couple of degrees since breakfast. "So....where are you going then?"

"To go get the toolkit that I saw in the garage," he said, without turning around to face her. "so that I can fix that damned boiler of yours. We are not going to spend Christmas Day freezing to death, not if I have any say in the matter. Stay here, I'll be back soon."

Rey was shocked. She was so sure that he would leave---but once again he had proved to be full of surprises. Her heart swelled at the thought of him actually wanting to help her---it made her want him that much more. She just hoped he would be willing to take whatever she had to offer him. 

* * *

"ENP Security, how may I help you?"

Hux turned into the plastic shell of the public phone at Kennedy. "Yeah," he said a heavy, nasal Midwestern accent. "Can I please speak to Kylo Ren? This is Pat Lawrence, tell him we met at Intersec in Dubai last year."

Coming into Customs as a foreigner had been beyond weird, but it had gone smoothly. Security was primed to question. Middle Eastern males, not Finns. The photo likeness had been enough for Hux to be waxed through. First order of business, find Ren. The Old Man had died, Ren would be the new CEO of ENP. Hux had to find out if he was in North Caroline still.

Dopheld's documents would hold for a while, but soon he'd need more. He prepared to be put on hold. The ENP secretaries wouldn't put anyone through to Ren immediately. They'd make him jump through the hoops. Hux had a phone card and was willing to wait it out, though.

"I'm very sorry, sir," the secretary said, instead of _Hold please._ "But Mr. Ren is no longer with the company." 

Hux straightened. "What? That's ridiculous! Of course---"

"Sir, you must have been misinformed, the company has been sold to Orion Security and Mr. Nathan Bodine is the new CEO. If you would like to speak with him I will direct your call, if not, please have a nice day." The dial tone came on. _Fuck!_ Hux stared at the phone, jaw clenched, breath coming in sharp spurts. 

The son of a bitch had _sold off the family company._ His father barely in the ground, and the bastard handed over his life's work, just like that. Well, of course. Fucker had a fortune in blood diamonds. He wasn't going to go to work ever day when he a had a whole fucking fortune in his hands. 

Hux angrily punched out another number. Ren's home phone-lune. Secretive bastard had never given him his home number. Hux had to lift it from company files. Eight rings.

He was about to hang up when a recorded robotic female voice answered him. "The number you have dialed is no longer connected. Please hang up an try your call again." 

Son of a bitch had up and run! Simply pulled up stakes and disappeared! Hux had factored that in at all. Ren had thrown him to the dogs and stolen his money, but it hadn't occurred to him that he would just disappear with it.

Ren was a close-mouthed bastard and didn't have friends--or at least men he'd have confided in---in the company. Even if Hux wanted to take the chance of showing his face in Monroe, he'd probably come up with nothing. No one would know where Ren had run off too.

Hux knew. Fucker had gone to find this woman, this Rey Kenobi. The love of his life. Hux knew then what he had to do in order for his plan to be successful. If you find her, you find him, and more importantly, you find the diamonds. 

He needed to stop and regroup and see what his options were, and he needed a whole new ID and a series of weapons in order to do that. There was a man in New York City named Drake, who lived out in the Brighton Beach area.

Drake could get anything, anywhere, anytime so long as you had the right price. Hux was desperate enough to get those diamonds back, as well as take out his revenge against Ren---or Benjamin Organa-Solo as he knew him during his time in the army together.

 _Kylo Ren_ was just an alias that he had cooked up to use on various dangerous missions and it had somehow stuck. So getting the weapons that he needed for this, wouldn't be that much of a problem to consider.

Where there's a will, there's a way to get the money. Nothing had stopped Hux before and he was going to make _damn_ sure that nothing as going to _stop_ him now. 

Hux would hang out in lower Manhattan for a while, get himself kitted out with new ID, while he searched the net for a Rey Kenobi. Hux punched in a Brighton Beach number and waited for the receiver to be picked up on the other end.

Needless to say, it didn't take very long. "Drake," a smooth bass voice answered.

"Drake, it's me, Armitage Hux. Look, I know you've probably got your hands full right now, but I'm in need of a little favor."

"Of course you are, Hux." Drake replied, and Hux could tell that he was smiling on the other end oft he line. "So, what can I do for you, buddy, old pal?"

For now, Hux knew that all of his problems would be at ease, the real test, however, would come later when he was face-to-face with Ren and this Kenobi woman.

Hux hoped that a single bullet to the chest or through the head would be enough to shut him up long enough to get back the life he felt that was stolen from him, as for this Kenobi girl, he'd deal with her in his own sick, twisted way. After all, he loved a good screamer. 


	11. Chapter 11

"Rey, go back upstairs. Please." Kylo kept his voice gentle, but he wanted to growl in exasperation.

The unheated basement was dank and damp and cold. It would take him at least another half hour to get the piece of shit Rey laughingly called a boiler going. She was standing next to him anxiously, eager to help him though she couldn't distinguish a lug wrench from an eyebrow pencil, shaking from the bitter cold.

Her nostrils were pinched and white, and her hands were milky blue even though she surreptitiously tucked them under her armpits when he wasn't looking in her direction. He couldn't stand seeing her like this. 

"No," she said, through chattering teeth. "That's okay. I want to help."

"You know what would help me?" He put down the screwdriver and pried away the backing plate. "You'd really be helping me right now if you went back upstairs where I know there's still some warmth. Your teeth are distracting me. They sound like castanets."

"I'm sorry." She clenched her jaw.

He sighed. "That was a joke by the way. Obviously not a very good one either." He wrenched the plate open and contemplated the rusting wires and leaky pipes with disgust. "Please go up, I can't stand seeing you like this. I mean it."

"If you can stand it, I can. I mean you're a soldier. Were a soldier, I mean. Don't soldiers stick together?" She edged closer to peer past him into the bowels of the rusting boiler as if looking inside the face of a long-despised enemy. "So that's the inside of the beast? It doesn't look like much, does it? I mean, considering how much damage it causes."

Kylo clenched his own jaw. No, it didn't look like much. It was the worst, oldest, crappiest boiler he'd ever seen, and he couldn't believe that she was trusting this piece of shit to keep her warm. It should have been tossed onto the garage junk heap ten years ago. 

"From the looks of things, you need a new filter." And a new casing and a new feedwater drum. 

"Tell me about it."

"You're spending more time in fixing it than what a new one would cost you. You're just guzzling up electricity." 

"Uh-huh."

"And you'd save even more money if you brought---"

"A condensing boiler," she finished for them. "I know, Ren. Believe me, I know. I've been told all of this before, repeatedly. What can I say? I don't have the money for a few filter and---trust me on this one---I certainly don't have the money for a new boiler. Maybe someday I will, but definitely not right now."

Kylo gritted his teeth. He was going to buy her a brand-new filter Monday and fit it in while she was out. Mack the Jerk was never going to touch her boiler again, so she'd never know. He'd give his eyeteeth to be able to buy a new boiler for her, but it would be hard to install on his own, and he knew she'd notice that.

 _Fuck!_ He _hated_ this! He hated seeing her pale with the cold, shaking and frightened that she'd be without heat. It was insane that Rey had to spend one more second without money when he had so much of it. What the hell did he have money for if he couldn't make her life easier? But how to get the money to her? A sudden dump of a million dollars in her bank account two days after he randomly showed up would raise too many red flags, though he was very tempted to do just that. 

Just transfer a million, maybe two, so her money problems would be over permanently. God knows he'd have plenty left. 

It was such a tempting though that Kylo gritted his teeth against it as he took part the filter from hell, cleaned it, and reassembled it. Rey wasn't meant for this life. She wasn't meant to live in a shell of a home, however beautiful as that shell was, without rugs and paintings, whose walls needed painting, with an unreliable heating system in the dead of winter. 

She wasn't meant to pinch pennies, have a continuous frown a worry between her brows, a slightly sad cast to her face. 

Kylo wanted to drown her in comfort. He wanted to buy her things----useful things and very foolish things. Pretty baubles that would bring a smile to her face. Clothes, jewelry. Rugs, artwork for the house. He wanted her to be able to bring Jakku Manor back to what it once had been during it glory days. 

It was going to be hard getting her to accept the money, but he'd manage. He was going to be in her life from now on. They were already having sex. He was going to keep her in bed as much as he could this weekend.

There was nothing that forged a bond like sex, at least for a woman like Rey. She hadn't had many lovers and it had been six years since the last one. She'd been as tight as a virgin, and it had nearly blown his head off. She wasn't an easy woman. Her body had told him that she was picky. And by God, she'd picked him.

Kylo knew why she'd picked him. Because he'd been there, at a low moment in her life. The taxi driver had said that her parents had died on Christmas Day. Her brother had just died. It was her first Christmas completely alone, and she'd been sat and upset. It didn't bother him that he'd caught her not because of his charm---he didn't have any charm that he knew of---but because he'd been in the right place at the right time.

As a soldier, Kylo had ruthlessly used any advantage he could get, even if it was only a slight elevation above an enemy solider, the wind blowing in the right direction, or the cover of night. He was going to press his advantage just as ruthlessly this weekend, too, bedding her until, by Monday, she'd be his. No, she was already his, only she didn't know it yet.

And he'd take extra good care of her. All of his life he'd only wanted two things---to do right by his dad. And Rey. 

She was surreptitiously hopping up and down, trying to keep warm, her breath a little loud around her face. Damn! Taking care of her did not entail her freezing that pretty tail off. 

"Rey," he began, putting down the wrench. 

"Don't," she said, teeth chattering. "I'm staying right here and keeping you company until you get the blasted thing going---and if you do, I'll personally nominate you for the Nobel--or you give up. Whichever comes first."

"Listen, it's fucking---I mean freaking freezing out here." 

"Yes." 

"You'll catch your death of cold out here."

"So go up!" 

"No."

That pretty, pointed chin went up in the air like a notch. It was a real surprise enamel wasn't shooting out of his ass, he was grinding his teeth so hard. Kylo went back to the boiler, trying to work double-quick, before he ended up with a gorgeous corpse. Fifteen minutes later he, he tightened the last screw and flipped a switch.

A red light came on, and a second later, with a great shudder like an ocean liner taking off for a trip across the Atlantic, the boiler creaked into life.

Rey had, had her arms wrapped around herself for warmth, but her arms suddenly stopped. _"Oh My God,"_ she whispered, eyes huge in her pale face. "You did it! You fixed it!"

"Yeah." Kylo put the tools away, eyeing the boiler with self-loathing. He'd fixed it with the equivalent of chewing gum and duct tape, but it goddamned well better hold until Monday when he could get her a new filter in, or he'd rip the fucking thing straight out of the wall with his own hands. "Whoa, there."

Rey had walked straight into his arms, laying her head on his chest, her arms hugging him tightly. "Thanks," she whispered. She looked up at him, tears on her eyelashes. "Oh my gosh. Thanks so much. I can't tell you how much I was dreading being without heat all weekend."

His hands came up, one around her head, one around her waist, holding her tightly, looking for words, through none came. 

Brand-new emotions, ones he didn't have names for, coursed through him, fierce and raw, emotions he didn't know how to handle. No one had ever looked at him like that, certainly no woman. Women looked at him with lust, greed or indifference, never with warmth and admiration he could clearly see on Rey's beautiful face.

"It was nothing," he said gruffly.

And it wasn't. Jesus, he wanted to shower her with pearls and diamonds. Coddle her and spoil her, take care of her problems for her. Fixing her boiler didn't even register on the scale. In the answer, she turned her head and kissed his chest.

He didn't feel it through his sweatshirt, but the gesture stunned him. It was an unmistakable gesture of....of affection.....of love. He'd lusted after this woman for most of his life, it seemed. 

The sex they'd had yesterday hadn't even begun to get her out of his head. He was okay with sex. It was what he knew, so he could deal with lust, and the thought of fucking her as long as she was physically able. What he saw on her face nearly unmanned him. He wanted to put it back on a sexual footing, right now, so he wouldn't have to deal with all those...…things rolling around in his chest like hot boulders.

He was bending down to kiss her when she shivered. "Get out," he said harshly.

If he could have reached his own butt, he'd have kicked it. Jesus, keeping her in the cold, damp basement was not a good idea. What was he even thinking of?

He'd actually flashed on pushing down her pants and taking her, right there, on the freezing concrete floor. What was the _matter_ with him? He wouldn't even treat a casual sex partner like that---and this was Rey. _His_ Rey. 

With a hand still on her back, he ushered her up into the kitchen. This wasn't any good. In the half hour it had taken him to fix the boiler, the house had cooled down noticeably. He was okay with it, bit Rey would find it uncomfortably cold. Only one placed to go---to bed.

Oh yeah. Get her between the sheets, start fucking. Get rid of that....that prickly feeling in his chest. Kylo kept his hand on the small of her back. 

"Keep on going up." 

Rey looked up at him, startled. She blushed when she saw the heat in his eyes and smiled faintly. "Okay."

* * *

Her bedroom had big windows, with no double glazing. The heat had simply leaked out, and it was already close to freezing. Condensation had iced the windows over, forming giant star patterns on the pane. Their breaths were making chunks around their heads. Undressing, Rey slowly like he wanted to was out of the question.

He bent down and kissed her softly, reaching past her to pull down the covers. "Don't undress, just get in."

"Okay," she whispered, toeing off her shoes and lying down. 

She scooted over, watching him. She'd left a big empty space on his side oft he bed, an invitation as clear as if she'd engraved it on a card. Kylo undressed, watching her eyes. There was a little trepidation, a little shyness, but there was also a feeling of welcome.

Naked to the waist, he unzipped his jeans and hooked his thumbs in the waistband. Hesitating, he finally just shucked them and the briefs off, taking socks and boots with him. Rey's eyes widened when he saw him in all his glory. 

He didn't even have to look down, he could see what condition he was in from what was in her eyes. And he could feel how swollen he was.

He was hard as a club, already weeping from the tip, the drops of moisture cool against the tip of his cock. It was the only place where he actually felt cold. The rest of him was so hot he didn't feel the cold at all, though he was naked. All he had to do was look at Rey and know that he was going to be inside her very soon, and hot flush swept over his body.

"You've been thinking about this, haven't you?" she said faintly, when he finally climbed into bed.

"All morning long." His weight made the bed dip and tip her towards him. Kylo reached for her, rolled on top of her. 

"All--"She gave a half laugh. "Even when you were down there fixing that boiler?"

Oh God, she felt so goddamned good, warm and soft, skin like satin. He rested his upper body on his forearms and looked down at her, smiling, as happy as he'd ever been in his life. 

"Not then, no." Down there in the basement, his only thought had been to get the damn thing up and running and get Rey to somewhere warm. "But before. And after. And especially _right_ now."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Feel it." Suddenly, Kylo wanted her hands on him, like he wanted his next breath. He levered himself off her, to the side. He took her hand, soft, slender, long-fingered and curled it around his cock. "Feel me, Rey," he whispered. "Feel just how much I want you right now."

Her fingers flexed under his, once, then closed around him. He hissed as a urge of blood rushed through him, straight into his cock. He'd pulled the covers up and tucked them around her shoulders, so Rey couldn't see what she was doing.

But even if she couldn't see it, she could surely _feel_ what she was going to him. Fisting her hand around him, she brought it down to the base, then slowly back up again, smoothing a finger over the head of his cock. One pump of her hand, and it was weeping again. She could feel it, the little witch. The shyness was gone, and a smile of pure seduction was on her face. 

She could feel everything she did to him, now his stomach muscles clenched when he back of her hand ran over them. The hand not holding his cock was on his chest, over his heart. She could feel how his breath shortened, how his heart raced. Kylo usually had a clock running in his head, and it was accurate to the minute. 

But now he lost all track of time in the quiet room. It was so sullen and overcast outside it was hard to tell what time of the afternoon it was, and there were no outside sounds.

There was only them, and the noises they made in the quiet room. His rough breathing, the rustling of the sheets. The quiet slither of her clothes dropping by the side of the bed as he undressed her under the covers. The creaking of the bed-springs as he finally mounted her.

The slow ahh sound that she made as he rolled back on top of her and positioned himself, cock barely inside her, feeling it was she was wet enough. She was, not completely primed like he was, but wet enough. More foreplay would have to come later, when he'd had her----oh, maybe a thousand more times and had cooled down a little. Right now, if he waited even a second more to enter her, he'd cum over her stomach, or his head would explode, so he slowly pushed his way in.

Pushed his way home. It felt like a homecoming. She was his home. There was no mistaking it---the welcome her body gave him.

As tight as she was, there was no resistance, just the wet warm sleekness of the tissues of her cunt, parting to make way for him. He didn't have to hold her thighs open---she'd lifted her legs herself and opened them wide, heels hugging the backs of his thighs, arms tight around his neck, arching into him.

It all felt so good that he stopped when he was fully embedded in her, savoring everything about being inside her. It was so luscious here, so warm, he never wanted to leave. Pulling out only to start thrusting seemed insane, when she was wrapped around every inch of his cock, and he'd have to give some of that up. No. Kylo ground his cock into her, digging his toes in the mattress to give him more leverage, and rocked in her. 

Tiny little movements that gave him the friction he craved but didn't require him pulling even partly out. He circled his hips, round and round, reaching even farther inside, and with a small cry, arching her back so her perfect breasts were pressed even more tightly against him, she began cumming. 

Sharp little contractions of her cunt, pulling at him, squeezing. She came with her whole body, arms and legs tightening around him, mouth seeking his, tongue deeply in his mouth, stroking his tongue in time with her cunt.....

God! Without moving, just from being inside her, Kylo came, in great streams of slick, sticky hot cum, shaking and sweating, heart pounding, bright pinwheels of light behind his eyelids. 

He couldn't move, he could barely breathe, it was so intense, so mind-blowing. Rey was moaning in his mouth, arms and legs holding on to him so tightly as if to keep him from leaving. He loved it that she was clinging to him so fiercely, but it wasn't necessary. Why would he ever leave her? Not while every cell in his body was swamped with pleasure so acute it bordered on the verge of pain. No, leaving her would be simply impossible. The contractions died down, slowly. The biting, harsh, deep kisses softened, became a slow, languid meeting of his lips, while Rey's muscles relaxed, the breath leaving her on a sigh. 

One last intense pulse, and his climax was over, too. Kylo sprawled on top of her, muscles like water. He was too heavy, he knew that, but he couldn't have moved if someone had put a gun to his head. His face buried in her hair, one soft brown lock tickling his nose. It smelled of roses---that smell zinged its way to the most primitive part of his brain, the one that would always associate the smell of roses with Rey, with sex. He immediately hardened inside her, and she gave a shaky little laugh. 

"No, not yet cowboy. I need to regain my strength."

Kylo smiled. They'd have sex again, and soon. As far as he was concerned, they would have sex for the next thirty-six hours, stopping only to eat and shower. But though his cock was getting harder again by the second, he didn't move because where he was---was already perfect. 

The feel of her, she smell of her, above all the relaxed sense of closeness. It was almost as good as the sex, and it was something he'd never had in his entire life. It was the one perfect thing in his imperfect life. 

* * *

If you have enough money, you can get anything you want, even on Christmas Day. Hux took a cab to Chinatown where he bought himself an entire wardrobe from the skin out, thanks to Dopheld. Two excellent faux Armani suits, a gray cashmere overcoat, two pairs of khaki pants, five white dress shirts, five flannel shirts, two sweaters, ten silk boxers, ten silk undershirts, two pairs of expensive boots and a fake Vuitton suitcase.

This was for Hux's new life, just as soon as he took that fucker Solo down. For what had to be done in the meantime, he bought two cheap black suits, five white drip-dry shirts, two pairs of jeans, two sweatshirts and a forty-dollar parka. That all went into a gym bag. He needed some walking-around money. There was $40,000 stashed away in a safe in his house in Monroe, but he had no idea of Solo had alerted the local police, so that was out.

Right now, his staging base had to be here, in New York, where he could disappear while trying to find where Solo had gone. Drawing cash from Dopheld's card on an ATM was impossible without the PIN number. But he had an ATM card on an account in the Caymans he'd opened in the name of a Nicholas Clancy.

The money came from a very lucrative deal in ex-military arms sold to a rebel Ossestian group, and the bank catered to people precisely just like him. It was essentially a server in a high-rise on Grand Cayman. It's customers never visited.

The bank knew what it was there for and what its customer needed, so that bank gave its customers a ten-thousand-dollar-a-day limit on its ATM withdrawals. Dopheld's Platinum card was enough for suite at the Waldorf for however long it took to formulate his plan. 

Hux was grateful to Dopheld for having made a fortune in the stock market before deciding to save the world by becoming a UN peacekeeper. Everything about the Wardolf was pure pleasure, starting with the doorman in livery handing him out of the cab. Hux pressed a fifty in his hand, figuring the word about big tippers would spread. The doorman, dressed like a Russian general, handed the Vuitton and the bag to a bellboy and ushered Hux into the huge marbled lobby as if Hux might actually have some problems walking through a door all by himself.

Damn straight. He'd been having living rough and hard all his life. Time to change all that, and the Wardolf was just the place to do it, to turn his life around. 

Ten very pleasant minutes later, he was being showed into his room, about three times the size of most the quarters he'd lived in as a soldier, and about ten times the size of the house trailer he'd grown up in.

Plush carpeting, antique furnishing polished to a high gloss, a big, high-four poster bed, a desk, deep burgundy armchairs, a bowl of shiny fruit, a tall flower arrangement. The Sun King wouldn't have felt out of place. His suitcase and bag were neatly laid out on a foldup holder.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on my twitter account https://twitter.com/RevivingRenSolo and don't be shy to say hello!


End file.
